I am but a man, a man like you –
Living every single day, a day anew.
Alas! I could not find, a find so fine –
I opt to belt a path of my own design.
I crave to live deliberately, free from my kind –
They who kept me tied, like a ball of twine.
Hence, I live, hither live alone –
A wooden cabin, built on my own.
In a brown, hard bed, made of twigs and hay –
A plain, old man; there I go and lay.
Here, I think and think again!
About what it is, I seek to comprehend.
Beneath the sky, a sky so wide –
I lie and sigh; the laden pond, beside.
With a sloth in body, an owl in mind –
I explore unfettered and divined.
A time in the woods, while basked by the sun –
In pursuit of a truth, attained by none.
The rousing clouds, the glowing gleams of sheen –
Lo and behold! A lovely damsel in between.
Whence I look, look upon her figure –
Thence I smile, as she were upon her nature.
But a lucid dream is what it seems to be –
Forevermore, drowned in reverie.
For What I Seek, I find reclusive;
And Where It Lies, remains elusive.
So, I’ll think, and think, and think some more!
Until I find what it is, I am looking for.
A poem for school purposes, written in 2019 in the point of view of Henry David Thoreau as he writes the iconic book 'Walden. Ou la vie dans les bois.'