50 Replies to “Robert Frost reads The Road Not Taken”
Not to burst any bubbles, but both roads were the same. He tells that later
in his life he will lie to make himself seem like a bigger person for being
adventurous.
There is no right answer to the poem or any poem. If one person analyzed it
another way then that’s fine, as long as there is something backing the
argument.
The road is less traveled because you took your own road. You didn’t decide
on either two roads because you wanted your own destiny. Why is this so
hard for you dumb sons of bitches to understand??!!!!
Robert Frost said, ‘Taste have close related with emotion, sensibility. and
he emphasize taste can be different with others so we can’t judge
rationally. other wise Judgment utilizethe reason, ration.
when we read Frost’s poems, we just can guess his poem seems like simply
and have positive meaning but if we see the deep inside of the implied
meaning we can see the shadow and dark side in his poems. so we called he
is not write just traditional lyric poem so I also agree with this idea.
first, the road he walk is not just simple road. it means our life. the
character chose the one road in this poem and this mean, in our life we
also have many situation to chose one thing.
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,
see this part, we can know he have confidence but have lingering attachment
to The Road Not Taken. and he even know that he can’t return his decision
and he give up. this can apply to our life. when we have to chose
something, we hope choose again which we didn’t choose but we know it’s
almost impossible. and we don’t know who it can conclude.
if I character, I will choose the road nobody choose because people want to
do something special and unique thing I want that too and I also like
adventure.
so in this poem have bright side and dark side too. and this principle is
everywhere in our life.
. . .
He was still chuckling over the wench’s discomfirture when he came to
the tremendous stones amassed around a small lake which he had reached once
or twice from the rocky Kronberg side many years ago. Now he glimpsed the
flash of the pool through the aperture of a natural vault, a masterpiece of
erosion. The vault was low and he bent his head to step down toward the
water. In its limpid tintarron he saw his scarlet reflection but, oddly
enough, owing to what seemed to be at first blush an optical illusion, this
reflection was not at his feet but much further; moreover, it was
accompanied by the ripple-warped reflection of a ledge that jutted high
above his present position. And finally, the strain on the magic of the
image caused it to snap as his red-sweatered, red-capped doubleganger
turned and vanished, whereas he, the observer, remained immobile. He now
advanced to the very lip of the water and was met there by a genuine
reflection, much larger and clearer than the one that had deceived him. He
skirted the pool. High up in the deep-blue sky jutted the empty ledge
whereon a counterfeit king had just stood. A shiver of alfear
(uncontrollable fear caused by elves) ran between his shoulder-blades. He
murmured a familiar prayer, crossed himself, and resolutely proceeded
toward the pass. At a high point upon an adjacent ridge a steinmann (a heap
of stones erected as a memento of an ascent) had donned a cap of red wool
in his honor. He trudged on. But his heart was a conical ache poking him
from below in the throat, and after a while he stopped again to take stock
of conditions and decide whether to scramble up the steep debris slope in
front of him or to strike off to the right along a strip of grass, gay with
gentians, that went winding between the lichened rocks. He elected the
second route and in due course reached the pass.
. . .
— Vladimir Nabokov, PALE FIRE
Frost was one of the most major Poets I read inside and out when I was in
Jr. High. Lord Byron, ee cummings, Longfellow, etc.. It’s good to hear the
old words again. As an adult I’m revisiting all my old readings to see them
in a more mature manner rather than a romantic teenager. The added
perspective is really quite interesting.
He sounds really keen, now I see where he is coming from. No, actually I
don’t, and am none the wiser for this reading.
I’m off, down some blind alley.
I do wish I hadn’t heard Mr Frost read his poem – I’ve always loved this
poem and considered it a testament to our freewill – that we were not
pawn’s of fate but rather free to choose our own destiny. Now, having heard
it read Frost’t flat dreary monotone – I’m not so sure:(
I had two roads to choose from once, and I was reminded of this bit of
wisdom from Frost. I still don’t know if the path I chose was the greener
one, or even the happier one, certainly not the richer one in terms of
money. I followed my talent, and my heart, I have loved my trade all my
life. I know things that other’s will never know, can do things that
other’s never will. I have seen things on this side of the path that would
make Artist’s green with envy. Still, like all human’s I truly wonder about
that road not taken, not sad about the one I did, just still wonder about
the other one.
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
Robert Frost Reads The Road Not Taken
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.
One of my favorite Americans a Anthem of my life this poem should inspire
all that love to support Art and Books in order to learn from history the
greatest teacher is TIME !!!!
Dear ESLEO Students
Thank you for taking this road. Please scroll down and read the comments.
What can you learn from what other says about Frost’s work? Cut and paste
five of the post onto a goggle doc that you felt expressed the best
analysis of Frost’s work. Remember to cite your “Frostpert”…please share
your googledoc with peers and Ms.Taylor. Create a separate paragraph and
reflect on what you liked about this assignment. What didn’t you like?
I awoke in agony. My leg bandaged in a black white tourniquet. Through the
seething pain I traced 10,000 footsteps back to myself. Everything is
clear. Our flesh is the mask behind which we hide our reality. I am the
beast and the beast is me. I am also the man, neither entity is a forced
smile or a crocodile tear. #dream40
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.
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 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.
vertaling:Ans Bouter
Niet ingeslagen
Een splitsing in een goudgeel woud
Helaas kon ik één weg slechts gaan
Alleen op pad zijnd en benauwd
Keek ik zelfs tot in ’t kreupelhout
Om maar de juiste in te slaan
Nam toch die andere, net zo mooi
En nu ik hem op waarde schat
Deed hij door ’t gras een goede gooi
Zo zocht ik naar een warm pleidooi
Voor wat ik net gekozen had
’t Gebladerte op beide lag
Er nog niet platgetreden bij
Die andere inslaan op een dag
Als ik daar nu eens kans toe zag
Maar kiezen maakt ons minder vrij
En later zal ik zeggen dat
Nadat ik zuchten heb geslaakt
Ik toen die ene weg betrad
Het nog niet platgetreden pad
En dat dat veel heeft uitgemaakt
We were excited to learn, on this the fiftieth anniversary of his death, of
the new cache of Robert Frost documents that has come to light. The
letters, photographs, and recordings come from the personal collection of
Jonathan Reichert, a friend of the poet’s, and will be on display at State
University of New York at Buffalo starting Thursday. Just to whet your
appetite, here’s Frost reading “The Road Not Taken.” It’s good, for those
of us who have come to take the poem for granted, to take the words out of
the yearbook context and rediscover its forthright beauty. #poetry
#robertfrost #recording
Enjoy the present, it is your gift for the day and always give thanks to
the morning star before another day has begun so you can receive your next
gift of yet another day–
Not to burst any bubbles, but both roads were the same. He tells that later
in his life he will lie to make himself seem like a bigger person for being
adventurous.
There is no right answer to the poem or any poem. If one person analyzed it
another way then that’s fine, as long as there is something backing the
argument.
The road is less traveled because you took your own road. You didn’t decide
on either two roads because you wanted your own destiny. Why is this so
hard for you dumb sons of bitches to understand??!!!!
is this really Frost’s voice
Robert Frost said, ‘Taste have close related with emotion, sensibility. and
he emphasize taste can be different with others so we can’t judge
rationally. other wise Judgment utilizethe reason, ration.
when we read Frost’s poems, we just can guess his poem seems like simply
and have positive meaning but if we see the deep inside of the implied
meaning we can see the shadow and dark side in his poems. so we called he
is not write just traditional lyric poem so I also agree with this idea.
first, the road he walk is not just simple road. it means our life. the
character chose the one road in this poem and this mean, in our life we
also have many situation to chose one thing.
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,
see this part, we can know he have confidence but have lingering attachment
to The Road Not Taken. and he even know that he can’t return his decision
and he give up. this can apply to our life. when we have to chose
something, we hope choose again which we didn’t choose but we know it’s
almost impossible. and we don’t know who it can conclude.
if I character, I will choose the road nobody choose because people want to
do something special and unique thing I want that too and I also like
adventure.
so in this poem have bright side and dark side too. and this principle is
everywhere in our life.
Dieses interessante Video habe ich auf YouTube gefunden:
The last stanza gets me every time
He’s American but sounds Irish
Life always gives you two options… its all up to you choose the one who
fits you better :)
I would agree with the notion that poets are not typically the best ones to
recite their creations.
What accent does he have?
Pjgumby, I’m talking to you, you ignorant dilluted piece of trash!!”!
. . .
He was still chuckling over the wench’s discomfirture when he came to
the tremendous stones amassed around a small lake which he had reached once
or twice from the rocky Kronberg side many years ago. Now he glimpsed the
flash of the pool through the aperture of a natural vault, a masterpiece of
erosion. The vault was low and he bent his head to step down toward the
water. In its limpid tintarron he saw his scarlet reflection but, oddly
enough, owing to what seemed to be at first blush an optical illusion, this
reflection was not at his feet but much further; moreover, it was
accompanied by the ripple-warped reflection of a ledge that jutted high
above his present position. And finally, the strain on the magic of the
image caused it to snap as his red-sweatered, red-capped doubleganger
turned and vanished, whereas he, the observer, remained immobile. He now
advanced to the very lip of the water and was met there by a genuine
reflection, much larger and clearer than the one that had deceived him. He
skirted the pool. High up in the deep-blue sky jutted the empty ledge
whereon a counterfeit king had just stood. A shiver of alfear
(uncontrollable fear caused by elves) ran between his shoulder-blades. He
murmured a familiar prayer, crossed himself, and resolutely proceeded
toward the pass. At a high point upon an adjacent ridge a steinmann (a heap
of stones erected as a memento of an ascent) had donned a cap of red wool
in his honor. He trudged on. But his heart was a conical ache poking him
from below in the throat, and after a while he stopped again to take stock
of conditions and decide whether to scramble up the steep debris slope in
front of him or to strike off to the right along a strip of grass, gay with
gentians, that went winding between the lichened rocks. He elected the
second route and in due course reached the pass.
. . .
— Vladimir Nabokov, PALE FIRE
*The Road Not Taken* as written and read by Robert Frost
Robert Frost sure knows how to trick people.
love that last line.
robert frost
As we age, we all wonder…..about the Road Not Taken
#robertfrost
Frost was one of the most major Poets I read inside and out when I was in
Jr. High. Lord Byron, ee cummings, Longfellow, etc.. It’s good to hear the
old words again. As an adult I’m revisiting all my old readings to see them
in a more mature manner rather than a romantic teenager. The added
perspective is really quite interesting.
He sounds really keen, now I see where he is coming from. No, actually I
don’t, and am none the wiser for this reading.
I’m off, down some blind alley.
I do wish I hadn’t heard Mr Frost read his poem – I’ve always loved this
poem and considered it a testament to our freewill – that we were not
pawn’s of fate but rather free to choose our own destiny. Now, having heard
it read Frost’t flat dreary monotone – I’m not so sure:(
I had two roads to choose from once, and I was reminded of this bit of
wisdom from Frost. I still don’t know if the path I chose was the greener
one, or even the happier one, certainly not the richer one in terms of
money. I followed my talent, and my heart, I have loved my trade all my
life. I know things that other’s will never know, can do things that
other’s never will. I have seen things on this side of the path that would
make Artist’s green with envy. Still, like all human’s I truly wonder about
that road not taken, not sad about the one I did, just still wonder about
the other one.
epic
“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
Robert Frost Reads The Road Not Taken
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.
Robert Frost reads The Road Not Taken
It’s the birthday of the poet Robert Frost born in San Francisco (1874).
from The Writer’s Almanac
One of my favorite Americans a Anthem of my life this poem should inspire
all that love to support Art and Books in order to learn from history the
greatest teacher is TIME !!!!
Dear ESLEO Students
Thank you for taking this road. Please scroll down and read the comments.
What can you learn from what other says about Frost’s work? Cut and paste
five of the post onto a goggle doc that you felt expressed the best
analysis of Frost’s work. Remember to cite your “Frostpert”…please share
your googledoc with peers and Ms.Taylor. Create a separate paragraph and
reflect on what you liked about this assignment. What didn’t you like?
I awoke in agony. My leg bandaged in a black white tourniquet. Through the
seething pain I traced 10,000 footsteps back to myself. Everything is
clear. Our flesh is the mask behind which we hide our reality. I am the
beast and the beast is me. I am also the man, neither entity is a forced
smile or a crocodile tear. #dream40
The Road Not Taken
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.
-Robert Frost
The road not taken (Robert Frost 1874 – 1963)
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 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.
vertaling:Ans Bouter
Niet ingeslagen
Een splitsing in een goudgeel woud
Helaas kon ik één weg slechts gaan
Alleen op pad zijnd en benauwd
Keek ik zelfs tot in ’t kreupelhout
Om maar de juiste in te slaan
Nam toch die andere, net zo mooi
En nu ik hem op waarde schat
Deed hij door ’t gras een goede gooi
Zo zocht ik naar een warm pleidooi
Voor wat ik net gekozen had
’t Gebladerte op beide lag
Er nog niet platgetreden bij
Die andere inslaan op een dag
Als ik daar nu eens kans toe zag
Maar kiezen maakt ons minder vrij
En later zal ik zeggen dat
Nadat ik zuchten heb geslaakt
Ik toen die ene weg betrad
Het nog niet platgetreden pad
En dat dat veel heeft uitgemaakt
We were excited to learn, on this the fiftieth anniversary of his death, of
the new cache of Robert Frost documents that has come to light. The
letters, photographs, and recordings come from the personal collection of
Jonathan Reichert, a friend of the poet’s, and will be on display at State
University of New York at Buffalo starting Thursday. Just to whet your
appetite, here’s Frost reading “The Road Not Taken.” It’s good, for those
of us who have come to take the poem for granted, to take the words out of
the yearbook context and rediscover its forthright beauty. #poetry
#robertfrost #recording
Robert Frost reads The Road Not Taken
Enjoy the present, it is your gift for the day and always give thanks to
the morning star before another day has begun so you can receive your next
gift of yet another day–