A headlong flying arrow
Fired by a random hand
Not knowing where its trembling
Steel tip shall pierce and land.

A leaf from a dry tree-branch
Ripped by a crazy gust:
Unknowable the furrow
Where it shall fall at last.

A huge wave that the ocean's
Winds pull and push and lash,
Rolling with no idea
What beach it means to splash.

Lights in a hallway's torches
Burn, destined to expire,
None caring which possesses
The longest-lasting fire.

These things am I who travel
This world, who do not know
Where I am from nor whither
My willful feet will go.