I've drifted over Trafalgar's rotting hulls,
Seen dolphins play at the pillars of Hercules,
Been camel-ridden to the foot of Cheops
And walked the city Alexander took and named.
I've fingered the ruins of three great empires,
Watched the sun climb up Vesuvius
And plunge itself in Homer's wine-dark sea.
I've beheld these things, but they cannot hold me.
I've become restless with travel.
I'd trade it all to crunch a pair of boots
Across a golden Carolina hill; to find
The grain of seasoned oak with an ax's edge,
To make it fit for fire; and settle down
To raising stock, and heirs, and lines.
Yes, and lines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem