![]() ![]() So was I once myself a swinger of birches.Īnd life is too much like a pathless wood Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, With the same pains you use to fill a cup To learn about not launching out too soonĬlear to the ground. Whose only play was what he found himself,Īnd not one but hung limp, not one was leftįor him to conquer. Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, I should prefer to have some boy bend them With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hairīefore them over their heads to dry in the sun.īut I was going to say when Truth broke in Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground You may see their trunks arching in the woods So low for long, they never right themselves: They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,Īnd they seem not to break though once they are bowed You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust. Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells Often you must have seen themĪs the breeze rises, and turn many-coloredĪs the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. I like to think some boy’s been swinging them.īut swinging doesn’t bend them down to stayĪs ice-storms do. At least for me, this is what I will always do.When I see birches bend to left and rightĪcross the lines of straighter darker trees, Even if we encounter the temptation of escapism, or perhaps a death wish, we have to carry on with our journey. Undoubtedly, life is tiring, for we have to bear our responsibilities and duties on our shoulders at any time, but still, the million years of time (including BC) where human-beings have existed through, most have lived by bearing heavy loads of obligations until the end of their lives.Įxtracting another poem by Robert Frost, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening - we live, because we have obligations and responsibilities that we are under. ![]() I would like to be a swinger of birches, too for I don't have the courage to leave this place for ever, and because even though a specific element in life has hurt and crushed me, it somehow has been what keeps me motivated at certain times. He parallels this motion with his wish of temporary escape, illustrating the escapism is as though swinging up toward heaven and then down, returning to the ground. ![]() There is no other place that he'd rather be than on earth, where love exists.įrost writes about his childhood of swinging on the birches, of being flung up and down from the ground to the air, then from the air back to the ground. I don't know where it's likely to go better. The experience of love torments him as much as it strengthens him. In his poem, it strongly suggests that Love is one of the reasons that gives him the urge to run away, but it is also the reason why he chooses to return to earth instead of escaping to other places. It is marked that his will of returning is based on the appreciation he shows towards life - and that is what he finds on earth: Love. Because of his weariness of considerations, and that he feels lost in life - And life is too much like a pathless wood, he wants to leave this place for a little while - not permanently, though - so that he can leave all his obligations and responsibilities behind, and before long, he would like to come back and face them. ![]()
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