I long for recent gold I cannot hold,
The kind of which is—why—long lost at sea,
And though I truly know where it could be:
The waves yet never let my path unfold;
Or else my gold but lies in endless cold; —
How many a sailor who just must agree:
The toils of treasure set those seekers free.—
Into a blaze my soul I'd gladly mold.
I should abandon this but barren quest,
And savor moments with not wasted time;
To hell with this horizon bittersweet!
'Remember what revived what's in your chest,
And set your sails to seek this prize sublime! '
Could gold yet let me be less incomplete?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem