We sat at the fisherman's house

We sat at the fisherman's house,

and gazed out at the sea;

the evening mists arrived,

and climbed into the heights.

At the lighthouse the lights were

gradually lit,

and in the far-off distance

was discovered yet another ship.

We spoke of storms and shipwrecks,

of the seaman and how he lives,

and of hovering between sky and water,

between fear and joy.

We spoke of far-off coasts,

of the South and of the North,

and of the odd people

and odd customs there.

At the Ganges, it is fragrant and shimmering:

and giant trees bloom there,

and fair, quiet people

kneel before lotus flowers.

In Lapland there are dirty people,

flat-headed, broad-mouthed, small;

they crouch around the fire and bake

fish, and squeak and scream.

The maidens listened earnestly,

and finally no one spoke any more;

The ship was no longer visible,

for it was now much too dark.