You went back to the youth room
and you wondered
which whims did not let you get as far as you could
which fears and disappointments did not let you mark your own destination with your compass
It is not only one  Ithaca
not only one destination
why did not you come back like a ghost one night why you borrowed your dreams from the deads
Every night you hear the ship that sails
Why  you never search the sailor who longed to look with your eyes
and to measure the loneliness of the deep ocean
You went back to the youth room
and you wondered why you did not paint the path you deserved, but you let the boredom and the everydayness smother a small alley with a half-
an alley to walk
an alley to get lost ...