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To the bustle of towns and the noise of thronged streets
We return — after all, we have no other options!
We descend to the plain from the won mountain peaks,
Having left there our hearts, overwhelmed with emotions.
There’s no reason nor use to be doubting!
I’ve proven it to myself many times —
But one thing is more excellent than mountains,
It’s the mountains ye haven’t as yet climbed.
It’s the mountains ye haven’t as yet climbed.
But who’d want to be left all alone in a mix?
But who’d want to resist his innate inclination?
Yet we have to descend from the won mountain peaks,
And they say even gods would descend on occasion.
There’s no reason nor use to be doubting!
I’ve proven it to myself many times —
But one thing is more excellent than mountains,
It’s the mountains ye haven’t as yet climbed.
It’s the mountains ye haven’t as yet climbed.
Many beautiful dreams, many songs, words of love,
Mountains rouse in us, and call us to remain here.
But we have to return, for a year or for life —
We descend to the plain, seized forever with craving.
There’s no reason nor use to be doubting!
I’ve proven it to myself many times —
But one thing is more excellent than mountains,
It’s the mountains one hasn’t ever climbed.
It’s the mountains one hasn’t ever climbed.
1966.
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