The poem opens with a puzzling question: how many people bury tomorrow in a castle? The image suggests locking the future away inside something grand and fortified, as if security could be built from stone. The question sounds doubtful, even a little critical of that kind of planning.
Then the speaker turns to a different plan. They will make a home "in that land without a road," a place with no clear route in or out, and no set path to follow. It feels both uncertain and freeing.
The last lines admit a cost. The speaker may miss some things, but they expect that longing to fade "by degrees," until even the habit of living in a state of want is forgotten. The mood is quiet, calm and a bit wistful. It reads like a choice to let go of anxious saving for the future and trust a simpler, less guarded way of living, while accepting that something will be lost along the way.