The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller, 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 travelled by, And that has made all the difference.
De: Mountain Interval, 1916
et tu Brutus?
ResponderEliminarI say ... do you have any idea how to get out of here?
divagações diante uma encruzilhada.
ResponderEliminarc'est la vie.
Lamento, mas vou ter que postar isto lá no meu blogue.
ResponderEliminarÉ muito bom.