Poems of Gustavo Adolfo Becquer, II

^{Translated from the Spanish by Mason Carnes}

Flying arrow that darts astray,
   Shot at misfortune unforeseen,
   Without divining where its keen
Quivering edge will find its way;

Leaf that from the sapless tree
   Is ravished by the wild south wind,
   With none to know or care to find
The furrow where its end will be;

Gigantic wave,—which the tempest hurls
   And fiercely tosses upon the sea—
   That rolling and raging wantonly
Knows not the shore towards which it whirls;

Light that shines though death be nigh
   And burns in flickering circles small,
   Not knowing which among them all
Will flicker the last and trembling die;

Such am I. By chance I flow
   Into this troubled world unsought;
   I ebb away without a thought
Of whence I come or where I go.