A traveler

Here, where the roads diverge,

where now do the paths go?

Mine is the path of sorrows -

of that I am always certain.

Travelers who take this path

ask with friendliness: where are you going?

None will understand me

if I tell him where I live.

Rich earth, poor earth,

Have you no room for me?

Where I will someday be buried,

that is the place I will love.