Down into the ravine, then forward <br />Up the embankment to the top, <br />The ribbon of the road runs snaking <br />Through wood and field without a stop. <br /> <br />By all the precepts of perspective <br />Well-surfaced highway windings rush <br />Among the fields, among the meadows, <br />Not raising dust, nor stuck in slush. <br /> <br />The peaceful pond nearby ignoring <br />(On which a duck with ducklings swam) <br />The road once more is forward soaring <br />On having crossed and left the dam. <br /> <br />Now-down a slope again it hastens, <br />Now-on and upwards, in a climb, <br />As only life, maybe, is meant to <br />Strain up and onward all the time. <br /> <br />Through thousands of unheard-of fancies, <br />Through times and countries, climb and fall, <br />Through helps and hindrances it races <br />Relentless, too, towards a goal; <br /> <br />And this is to have lived your fullest, <br />Experienced all-at home, abroad- <br />Just as the landscape now is livened <br />By twists and turnings of the road.<br /><br />Boris Pasternak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-road-47/
