Michael Solomon Translation


 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

Two roads split deep in a dawn setting,

And sorry I could not travel both

Too bad I could only chose one now,

And be one traveler, long I stood

But one person, I keep on forgetting

And looked down one as far as I could

Looks of indecision, Gods are betting

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

On which path I choose, I don’t know how;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

Fair to walk on both, but life isn’t fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Equal consideration for both,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

The left was green, should I even care

Though as for that the passing there

That both roads engulfed by clarity’s air,

Had worn them really about the same,

Both roads will end in the undergrowth,

 

And both that morning equally lay

One day later, life’s choices still await,

In leaves no step had trodden black.

The dark March clouds still cover the sky.

 

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Nature or nurture, the great debate

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

Still ponders our minds, as we live, then die

I doubted if I should ever come back.

The roads are curved, yet they stand so straight.

 

 

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Current decision clouds future sigh,

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Equally dark March clouds come each year

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I---

I took the one less traveled by,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

And that has made this life much more clear.