I have spent many days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung.

Drunk with the joy of singing I forget myself and call thee friend who art my lord.

Alas, why are my nights all thus lost? Ah, why do I ever miss his sight whose breath touches my sleep?

Perhaps that dawn will come from this horizon, from the East where the sun rises. A day will come when unvanquished Man will retrace his path of conquest, despite all barriers, to win back his lost human heritage.

I am restless. I am athirst for faraway things. My soul goes out in a longing to touch the skirt of the dim distance. O Great Beyond, O the keen call of thy flute! I forget, I ever forget, that I have no wings to fly, that I am bound in this spot evermore.

I leave no trace of wings in the air, but I am glad I have had my flight.