Sail
All by himself, a white sail glistens
Within the seafog's sapphire dome!..
What is he seeking in the distance?
What lies forsaken back at home?..
The mast is bending down and creaking,
The playful waves – the hissing breeze...
It is not happiness he's seeking,
Alas! Nor happiness he flees!
Beneath him, streams of light lazuli,
Above him, sunbeams golden-warm...
Yet he asks tempests, he, unruly,
As if his peace were in the storm!