The roadways which I wander

The roadways which I wander -

so oft I look around me -

still strange they seem to me.

Lodging, where I would shelter,

I can not quite arrive there,

far, far it is from here.

So alien they seem to me

these cities and these meadows,

the castles mute and dead;

yet far the mountains tower

where lies my native homeland,

an endless rising sun.