|I am wandering in search of some lonely retreat.|
I have hid myself here by the great mountains’ feet.
Like the halting attempts of a small boy to pray,
The spring’s music is broken—my joy hath full sway.
To the red twilight’s throne comes the eve’s starry race;
‘This a vision of heaven thus to see beauty’s face.
Still eve’s separation’s excuse for my mood;
Some memory has taught me how music is good.
|My life is all restless—unrest is mine own—|
It is just as I were like some small boy alone.
When the night is all dark he commences to hum
And he thinks that the sound from some other has come.
The lessons of patience I teach my heart,
As though to night’s sev’rance I show a false part.
Translated by: H.T. Sorley