Distante
The fairest of seas surrounding me;
Nor clouds, nor breeze binding me;
Yet I'm bound on this ship and alone:
The void prevalent has left me forlorn...
I sail from strained waters to land;
Yet I despair in faith's hand;
But for now, I'm stranded here--
Like a soldier disbanded here;
I try to raise the sails to motion
And hope to see a little shore...
Yet I feel, in a dreary fashion,
I try but I can do no more...
What grudge have ye against me, winds?
Bluest water, for what cause
Dost thou stay me down upon
Whilst my vessel's gathering moss?
Answer, I demand of thee (yet no sound):
Nor stirring of water, nor sight of ground;
Yet I try to move in naught;
Yet, this courage in me has brought--
Fresh yearning brought to my sinew:
To the limbs, a vigor of new,
To try myself to advance,
Rather than to hold-on askance--
Who's to say another league,
Could free me from this other realm...
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