The Exchange - National Committee on United States-China Relations

<strong>The</strong> Road Not Taken
Roy Bergeson
For the second year in a row, I have closed the year with this poem. We have discussed the vocabulary, the meter, the
rhyme scheme and looked closely at each stanza. As a final assignment, each student is to go home and explain the
poem in Chinese to a parent or grandparent. <strong>The</strong>n the student is to ask if there was a decision made “ages and ages”
ago that “has made all the difference.” <strong>The</strong>n, the student is to give an oral report on that conversation.
<strong>The</strong> assignment always produces amazing and often moving stories. We talk about what the sigh means in the last
stanza. It’s wonderful to have American poetry touch deep chords in people so far away, with different life experiences,
and who don’t speak English at all. Teaching is the best . . .
This morning one girl had actually written out her report. After she read it, I asked if I could take a closer look at what
she had written (text below). What I particularly enjoyed about the girl’s report was her real understanding of the poem.
(To help your memories, I have also copied the poem below.)
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;
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.
<strong>The</strong>n took the other, as just as fair,
I shall be telling this with a sigh
And having perhaps the better claim,
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
Though as for that the passing there
I took the one less traveled by,
Had worn them really about the same,
And that has made all the difference.
- Robert Frost
I translated the poem into Chinese. <strong>The</strong>n I told it to my mother. I knew what a terrible translator I was. My mother was
very surprised. She wondered how the famous poet could write such a boring poem. I thought it would be a long time
to explain the whole poem for her. I couldn’t wait to ask her the question directly.
She didn’t sigh at all, but what she said made me sigh.
My mother dreamed to be an artist when she was a little girl. She liked drawing so much that she always practiced until
next morning. She said she had done her best. Because of everyday practicing, she always couldn’t fall asleep easily.
After drawing many years, my mother continued to practice hard, but the progress couldn’t be seen easily. We know it
is easy to be a common painter but difficult to be an artist. <strong>The</strong> distance between the artists and painters is really small,
but it is impossible for most of the painters to go over the distance.
My mother realized this when she met my father. At that time two roads diverged in front of her. She could be a painter,
working hard as before, but she wouldn’t have time to take care of her busy husband. Or she could be a housewife. My
father needed her help. But if she chose to be a housewife, she must give up drawing and maybe could not use brushes
forever.
She didn’t tell me what she thought. I wondered how she made her decision. She stopped talking for a long time.
But suddenly she said, “It is too hard for a person to see her dream break out, especially the dream she held for her
whole childhood. I avoided the road that led to be an artist. So up to now there’s still hope in my heart. I hope when
you grow up, when there is nothing much for me to care about I will pick up my brush again.”
We publish the student’s report anonymously at her request.
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