Song of a Sailor
Aren't I driftwood washing where the waves carry me,
letting the wind pull me by my splinters leeway?
But if I ever ground eyes to land,
I should be surprised. Alone in the night,
there is no one with which to converse.
At least at sea, the moon tells me a story and I forget
my worries.
"Was I ever a lover? I watch enviously
as the lips of others kiss and give fruit their love.
For an hour before dawn and an hour at dusk,
As I fade, I watch my yawning Sun.
He does not abandon me and I do not surrender my longing.
His caress on my face is that makes me shine white light.
But was I ever a lover? ... before there was day or night."
Do I deserve the name sailor when my sails have torn
and no longer catch the breeze?
It was arrogant to sheet-in the fleety whisps,
trapping them, even if only for a moment, for a selfish purpose.
Who claims mastery or knowledge of nature must be a fool
and knows it when he is beaten.
O! at least the moon cares for my cause.
and knows it when he is beaten.
O! at least the moon cares for my cause.
"A moon must entertain herself when
she cannot satisfy her desire. While the sun sleeps,
I study Love. Fom my flighty place, I see what is made
under the filmy mask of my domain.
My love will never so be expressed as is under the luster of satin.
Would it that I could! and in the warm arms of his rays, become
lost. Yes, Love is to be lost."
(unfinished) ...
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