Antonio Machado

“ Cursing his destiny
like Glaucus, god of the seas,
he watches, his pupils cloudy
from weeping, the sea which owes him its white virgin Scylla.
He knows that a stronger God
of immortal substance is playing with death,
like a savage child. He thinks
that he must fall like a branch floating on the waters,
before losing himself, a drop
of sea, in the immense sea.
In dreams he heard the accent of a divine word;
in dreams he was shown the harsh diamantine law,
with neither hate nor love, and the cold
whisper of forgotten knowledge over the weary sands. ”