"A damp mountain wind drifts across me, beyond me blue islands ofheaven gaze down on other countries. Beneath those heavens I will behappy sometimes, and sometimes I will be homesick beneath them.The complete man that I am, the pure wanderer, mustn’t think abouthomesickness. But I know it, I am not complete, and I do not evenstrive to be complete. I want to taste my homesickness, as I taste myjoy."