El Extraviado

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

Over the radiant ridges borne out on the offshore wind,

I have sailed as a butterfly sails whose priming wings unfurled

Leave the familiar gardens and visited fields behind

To follow a cloud in the east rose-flushed on the rim of the world.

I have strayed from the trodden highway for walking with upturned eyes

On the way of the wind in the treetops, and the drift of the tinted rack.

For the will to be losing no wonder of sunny or starlit skies

I have chosen the sod for my pillow and a threadbare coat for my back.

Evening of ample horizons, opaline, delicate, pure,

Shadow of clouds on green valleys, trailed over meadows and trees,

Cities of ardent adventure where the harvests of Joy mature,

Forests whose murmuring voices are amorous prophecies,

World of romance and profusion, still round my journey spread

The glamours, the glints, the enthralments, the nurture of one whose feet

From hours unblessed by beauty nor lighted by love have fled

As the shade of the tomb on his pathway and the scent of the winding-sheet.

I never could rest from roving nor put from my heart this need

To be seeing how lovably Nature in flower and face hath wrought, —

In flower and meadow and mountain and heaven where the white clouds breed

And the cunning of silken meshes where the heart’s desire lies caught.

Over the azure expanses, on the offshore breezes borne,

I have sailed as a butterfly sails, nor recked where the impulse led,

Sufficed with the sunshine and freedom, the warmth and the summer morn,

The infinite glory surrounding, the infinite blue ahead

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