7. Questions
By the sea, by the bleak, nocturnal sea,
Stands a young man,
His heart filled with melancholy, his head with doubt
And with somber lips he questions the waves:
“O solve me the riddle of life,
Tell me, what is the meaning of man?
From where is he coming? To where is he going?
Who dwells there, high above the golden stars?”
There is the sound of the waves’ eternal murmur,
The lamenting of the wind, the fleeing of the clouds,
The twinkling of the starts, indifferent and cold,
And a fool awaits the answer.
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