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For indeed there is |
no one on earth |
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no one on earth |
so proud |
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so proud of spirit, |
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Nor |
so generous |
of his gifts, |
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Nor |
so bold |
in his youth, |
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Nor |
so daring |
in his deeds, |
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Nor his lord |
so loyal |
to him, |
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That he has no worries about his seafaring, |
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his seafaring, which his lord will make him do. |
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His thought is |
not |
about the harp, |
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nor |
about the ring-receiving, |
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nor |
about the joy of woman, |
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nor |
about his worldly hopes, |
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nor |
about anything else, |
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but |
about the rolling of the waves, |
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For which he |
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must ever yearn |
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For which he, who goes to sea, |
must ever yearn. |
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The groves take on blossoms, |
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The groves make cities more beautiful, |
| The groves make meadows brighter, |
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The world hastens on, |
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All this urges the eager spirit |
to the journey, |
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All this urges the heart |
to the journey, |
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By which he desires |
to travel far |
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to travel far in the flood ways |
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The cuckoo too reminds us |
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reminds us with his mourning cry |
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Summer’s guardian sings, |
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Announces bitter sorrow in the heart. |
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That man |
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does not know, |
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That man, |
blessed with comfort, |
does not know, |
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does not know, |
what some men suffer, |
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Who travel |
most widely |
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most widely on the path of exile. |
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For indeed |
my thought |
journeys |
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journeys beyond the confines of my heart, |
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my mind |
journeys |
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journeys widely with the ocean, |
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Over the whale’s domains, |
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Over the earth’s regions, |
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And |
comes back to me, |
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comes back to me greedy, |
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comes back to me grasping, |
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The solitary flyer calls out, |
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Whets the heart irresistibly |
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on the whale-paths |
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on the whale-paths over the seas |
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on the whale-paths over the seas of the ocean. |
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For indeed the joys of the lord |
mean more to me |
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mean more to me than |
this dead life |
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this dead life loan on land. |
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I do not believe |
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I do not believe that earthly wealth lasts
eternally |
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I do not believe that earthly wealth lasts
eternally for him. |
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