Are you the light dancing ahead of the bowsprit?
The reef you're heading for, which will be your respite?
Yet I am the helmsman and I steer and I weight
My holds with your ballast of darkness and of silt.
An obscure companion whom nobody would fool,
My voice never lowers even amidst your dreams.
Since you cannot forecast where your own star appears,
How shall you recognize the god whom you extol?
Become the night. Become oblivion. Be silent.
My voice never has ceased since you were an infant.
It's your Ariadne's clue, the toll for your passage,
The bridge across the swirls and rapids of old age.
When the destination and the hour you attain,
Off you throw your shadow!
My song, still, shall remain.
Michel Galiana
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-helmsman/
