Life is an island in an ocean of loneliness: its cliffs are the hopes, its trees are dreams,
its flowers are solitary life, its streams are thirst.
Your life, men, my fellows, is an island,
detached from any other island and region.
No matter how many ships
leaving your shores for other climates, no matter how many
fleets
touching your ribs: remain islands
each for its own account,
to suffer the wounds of loneliness and sigh
happiness.
You are unknown to other men and
far from their understanding and participation.
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