Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Dos camins divergien al bosc groc
i, ho sento, no podia emprendre els dos.
Vaig aturar el viatge llargament,
mirant-ne un, allà a la llunyania,
fins que es perdia entre el sotabosc.
Després vaig prendre l’altre, delitós,
i que potser em cridava més i tot:
ple de pastura, convidava a anar-hi;
per bé que, a dir veritat, els passejants
els havien fressat tots dos igual.
Aquell matí tots dos coberts estaven
de fulles no ennegrides per les petges.
El primer el vaig deixar: un altre dia!
I per bé que un camí et porta a un altre,
dubtava si mai més hi tornaria.
Això ho recordaré tot sospirant
en algun lloc llunyà, temps a venir:
dos camins divergien en un bosc,
i jo vaig agafar el menys transitat.
Allò va fer que tot fos diferent.