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Two roads ... What will your verse

Two roads diverged in a wood

yellow, and sorry not to make them

Both being a single, long I stood

One of them until I could peering

Where in the undergrowth turning.

Then took the other, which was equally good

And having perhaps the best stocks

Because it was grassy and seemed a little marked;

Although, after all, the passing of The people

really had marked more or less the same,

Why no one in the morning showed

On grass the black mark of a step.

Oh, the other one I left for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

doubted if I should ever come.

tell this story with a sigh

Somewhere between long time:

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

I took the one less traveled by, And

made all the difference is coming.

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...?!

not read and write poems because it's cute.
We read and write poetry because we are States the human race,
and the human race is full of passion.
Medicine, law, economics, engineering

are noble professions necessary to our livelihood. But the poem
, Beauty, romance, love ..
these are the things that keep us alive.

Oh me, oh life!
Questions like these haunt me;
endless processions of the infidels,
city crowded with fools,
that is new in all this?
Oh me, oh life!

Answer

Whether you're here,
that life exists and identity,
that the powerful play goes on,
and you may contribute a verse.

... the powerful play goes on,
and that you can contribute a verse ...

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were chills,
blue with white plumes and swords
the depopulated districts. The glare of the fires
calm shines in the glass.
The moon was on the bare winter gardens.

Attilio Bertolucci