Two paths separated in a flaxen forest,
Sad then it was not possible to wander each
As a single traveler, I remained interminably
While I peered along one course a vast distance
Noting an abrupt curve in the wilderness;
I chose the opposite trail that was equally reasonable,
With possibly greater worth than the other,
As it was overgrown, wild, and beckoned me;
Upon traveling each, to me both had
Been weather-beaten nearly alike,
Each at daybreak spread forth with the same
Amount of foliage no boot had trampled dark.
Hah, this wanderer reserved the other for the future!
Aware that one path always leads to another,
My mind was unsure my journeys would return here.
This happening is told with weariness
Far in the distant future:
Distinct paths separated in a forest, and my
Choice, yes mine—was to embrace the course
With fewer travelers, which,
Resulted in giving my tortuous life profound purpose.
Nina Simone’s Time Is Now, Again (New York Times)