With his backpack strapped fast
And the guts to journey against the wind's gust
Love the wanderer sets out in search of his soulmate
When season is due and reason steers him to his fate
Love will find a resting place - a haven heaven only therewith can rate.
The autumn leaves settle peacefully when the wind dies
An adventure nursed on the breasts of impulse and nurtured where uncertainty lies
Love the wanderer slumbers peacefully in the meadows of dawn
Lo, he abandons his lover's embrace - the aurora of opportunity he leaves forlorn.
Love the wanderer wantingly wanders thither
With his backpack and his loneliness he finds a resting place
but nestles there neither.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem