I ne'er carry anything with me
Some green memories
Crawl all over my inside like a grasshopper
When I was on the way to far
To a journey-
I began to remember
What
I left in hurry;
Alas! I couldn't gather
Winds flow in and take me away
I ran and ran, sometimes over the meadows
Over the farmlands, marshes, over the hills
I pulled back, stop myself
But the sway stronger enough
I couldn't help;
I lie obscurely
Sleep consumes me
I started wandering again
Climb up in the air
Paint myself blue
I strain the clouds
Hard
And make the day's stew;
I ne'er carry anything with me
Except some old manners and ways
A patient face to everyone
Solemn and grave
like a harbinger of death
I frisk over-
The standing horizon
The benign cattle
The ruddy evening
The wailing river
The paroxysm of the day's end
I pour out
Every moments I've honed
Without any day's saving
I ne'er carry anything with me
If you get me at any crossends-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem