A wanderer is man from his birth.
He was born in a ship
On the breast of the river of Time.

And sigh that one thing only has been lent
To youth and age in common - discontent.

"And then he thinks he knows
The hills where his life rose,
And the sea where it goes."

"Friends who set forth at our side,
Falter, are lost in the storm.
We, we only, are left!"

A criticism of life under the conditions fixed for such a criticism by the laws of poetic truth and poetic beauty.