I built for myself a house at the edge of the sea;
I fashioned it out of the rocks joyously;
Where I lived in the blithest way, in my sea dome,
That out of the width of the world I call home.
No other comrade I found than the sea,
Where wind-blown waves befriended me.
Skimming the surface foam, gulls swept by,
And I felt but a scorn of the city nigh
Whence I had escaped to the edge of my sea,
To lie on the sands' immensity.
There was never an hour when I, soul-tired,
Longed for the lights of the town, gold-bemired.
For the pleasure of peace I knew, the beauty of day,
And deep in myself I can find that peace alway.