‘The Way through the Woods’ by Rudyard Kipling

Not long ago, on one of my nature walks I visited a small lake near the town of Barajevo, Serbia. Oddly enough, the lake happens to be called Deep Stream (‘Duboki potok’ in Serbian); it’s in a rather secluded location, and so out of the way that even the locals had trouble explaining the directions to it.

Surrounded by rolling hills typical of the area between the mountains of Avala and Kosmaj, it felt very charming and peaceful. What I liked best, though, was the country lane encircling the lake, meandering through the forest. There was nothing special or unique about it, but it was just lovely.

Once I got back home, I searched my library for a poem that would go well with my mental images of the place. And here it is – the subject of this blog post – Rudyard Kipling’s ‘The Way through the Woods’. 

While set in summer rather than late winter, it describes a location not unlike the one I visited. But it’s a lot more than a mere description of a nature spot. The poet reflects on the passing character of all man-made structures: where once there was a road, nature has taken over again. What made the place so beautiful and idyllic is the withdrawal of humans and their absence.

I hope you enjoy this poem! The links inserted throughout are intended primarily for English language learners – you can click on them to see the images illustrating some of the words, mainly the plants and animals mentioned in the poem.

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They shut the road through the woods
      Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
      And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
      Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
      And the thin anemones.
      Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
      And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.

Yet, if you enter the woods
      Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
      Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
      Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse’s feet,
      And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
      Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
      As though they perfectly knew
      The old lost road through the woods.
But there is no road through the woods.

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ADDITIONAL RESOURCES

‘The Way through the Woods’ read by Ralph Fiennes

‘The Way through the Woods’ – a detailed poem analysis