What do you dream as you sleep, youth wrapped,
 and hemmed in by the cold banks, patient one!
 And are you oblivious of your origin,
 you son of the Oceans, friend of Titan?
 
 That blessing, sent by the Father,
 know you nothing of the live-giving Air?
 And do you not heed the Word, that brightly
 from above the ever watchful God sends you?
 
 Ever it sounds, ever in the breast it sounds, it streams,
 As, when he still slept in the lap of the rocks,
 On he flows, and now he recognizes his strength,
 his might, now, now he, the waverer, hurries
 
 now he mocks the shackles, and takes and breaks
 and throws and shatters in his fury, playing,
 here and there to the resounding shore.  
 And heeding the call 
 
 this son of Gods awakens the mountains 'round,
 he moves the forests, he hears the gulf
 of the distant herald and shuddering
 in joy awakens the bosom of the earth again.
 
 The spring comes; the new green dawns;
 He wanders now with immortals;
 Because nowhere can he remain, and he
 is lifted into the arms of the Father.