Everything You Never Knew You Wanted to Know About Berlin
The photo below, taken in the woods far out in Brandenburg inspired a little memory jog involving a truly great poem.
And so while the whole world seemed to be focused on the battle of the football giants in Brasil (the hosts were playing against Chile as part of the ongoing WC), I was sitting on a small regional train somewhere between Kablow and Königs Wusterhausen trying to remember what it was exactly that Frost wrote in the poem whose last two lines make every grown-up stop in their tracks and re-consider.
Btw, the match isn´t over yet;)
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.
by Robert Frost (1920)