How much further will you take me? Tell me at which port will drop anchor this golden boat you are steering? Whenever I ask you, lady from some foreign land, sweet-smiling, you only smile, I fail to understand what you have in mind. What does your move suggest? You point your finger in silence to the overflowing water, endless, to the sun at one end of the sky going down in the west. What is it we shall find there? Why are we travelling, in which quest? Tell me, I ask you, you stranger, Over ...

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