The Exile of Light

The peaks, the whiteness, and the green slumbering in the flood of fragrance and ray,
and the laughing sky, and the boat straying in the sweep of the horizon, and the sail —
where, O inspirer of visions, is your poet's heart from all these? And in this farewell?
All of it is imprisoned now: a whisper of emptiness, a gloom that does not end, and a following after.

A firebrand you are, from there, from the unseen, with the dawn, your fourfold chain.
You moved across our horizon radiant with hopes,
and the struggle courted you in our heights.
Ever, with us, the summits are, from your inspiration, a wonder, and from your reach, a widening.
How were your hopes! — the smile of a lifetime lies slain upon your lashes, and in our visions, a following after.

An exile you are, and remembrances of a light
whose dawn embraced the wide-ranging goals.
You are, in our comely letter, promises,
and in our singing, the longing broadcast abroad.