The islands called me far away,
The valleys called me home.
The rivers with a silver voice
Drew on my heart to come.
The paths reached tendrils to my hair
From every vine and tree.
There was no refuge anywhere
Until I came to thee.
There is a northern cloud I know,
Along a mountain crest;
And as she folds her wings of mist,
So I could make my rest.
There is no chain to bind her so
Unto that purple height;
And she will shine and wander, slow,
Slow, with a cloud's delight.
Would she begone? She melts away,
A heavenly joyous thing.
Yet day will find the mountain white,
White-folded with her wing.
As you may see, but half aware
If it be late or soon,
Soft breathing on the day-time air,
The fair forgotten Moon.
And though love cannot bind me, Love,
-- Ah no! -- yet I could stay
Maybe, with wings forever spread,
-- Forever, and a day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The GREATEST trajedy is for someone NOT to realize they are indeed already FREE..when you are bound to one thing..you are FREE to experience another.. It is not being bound or free..It is ONE's attitude toward the state you are in