Р. Фрост. Невыбранная дорога

Тропинка разделяется. Лес жёлт.
По двум пройти нельзя - ведь я один;
долго стоял, смотрел одну - не шел -
вперед, насколько видел впереди.

Выбрал другую - и надежна и ровна,
возможно, лучше - только заросла,
ее бы утоптать, но и она
идущего потопчет не со зла.   
 
Дорожки утром в листьях так равны
под непримятою опавшею листвой.
Потом уйду по первой. Правда, мы 
не попадаем дважды на раздвой.

О том решении со вздохом расскажу
когда нибудь потом, спустя сто лет:
в лесу развилка, нынче нахожусь
уже за выбором, в траве оставив след.


---

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

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.