Through rolling landscapes I found a path I needed to pursue  
It reached out as far as my mind could bear to let it free
Like a doubtful sceptic who, in dreaming, knew not where to turn to  
And I followed it to the last caress of its sheer certainty

Yet the dreamer lost his dreams; the sceptic forgot his playful irony
And I, in dreaming, lost the path and wandered off for shame
For, what's the goodness in a leader that finds a way to conjure me  
And yet can play the boundless tyrant to the very same?

I wandered off, and found an ocean; some fair, illusionistic place  
That seemed sheer miracle to all I hoped my dreams would bring
But the sea now, in her appetite, has devoured all the days
And conjured all I was, my hopes and pride and my imagining

The horizon now has caught my dreams
The old road my footsteps; the tyrant's stroke lies buried in the sea
And in every convulsion of that road lay a truth, or so it seems
That all we are is what we owe to what we one day wished to be