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The Wandering Song

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The singer goes around the world
smiling or meditative.

The cantor goes on the earth
in white peace or in red war.

On the back of the elephant
by the huge hallucinating India.

In palanquín and in fine silk
by the heart of the China;

by car in Lutetia;
in black gondola in Venice;

on the pampas and the plains
in the American ponies;

by the river it goes in the canoe,
or it is seen on the prow

of a steamer on the vast sea,
or in a wagon of sleeping-car.

The dromedary of the desert,
living boat, takes you to a port.

On the fast sled climbs
in the whiteness of the steppe.

Or in the crystal silence
that loves the northern lights.

The singer goes on foot through the meadows,
between the crops and cattle.

And he enters his London on the train,
and asses his Jerusalem.

With couriers and with bad,
the singer goes for humanity.

In song it flies, with its wings:
Harmony and Eternity.

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