There is a young man from Korea
Who plays his stones from his ear
He always complains
That he’s got rocks for brains
But at least he’s most sincere.
Two stones diverged in a baduk wood,
And sorry I could not play both
And be one player, long I stood
And read down one as far as I could
To where it went in the future growth;
Then played the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it wasn’t joseki and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing hane
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In the game both white and black.
Oh, I kept the first for another play!
Yet knowing how play leads on to play
I doubted if I could ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two stones diverged in go, and I,
I played the one less josekied by,
And that has made all the difference.
by Robby Frosty Newby