Rilke, "In einem fremden Park"

A work ("In an unfamiliar park") by this Austrian poet.  You can read the original here.

Two paths exist, but neither ends.
Yet, in your thoughts, one may well lead
On further, as if you misstepped,
If caught within a rondel's cleft,
Alone again, that stone to read: 
The Baroness below subtends
Our Brite Sophie. Now caress
These fingers years long past, long gone:
Why does this pain not evanesce?

Like that first time you won't go on, 
Expectant on this elm-bound square, 
So moist and dark, where no one treads. 

What counter-urge has made you dare, 
To search among the sunny beds, 
As if they named a rosebush bloom?  

What sounds recur as you stand here? 
Why do you see, flickering near,  
The moths now lost where tall phlox loom?