Now I've filled my lungs with cold darkness
and my eyes are unpeopled roads.
My ascetic feet have given up these cities
with their domestic nests, and moved on.

This path doesn't lead me to you
and if I wander dejected,
it isn't for you.

Now if these feet go on walking
it's only because the roads stretch out;
and where the roads are meant to go,
I've forgotten.