But the real travelers are those who leave for leaving’s sake;
Their hearts are light as balloons,
They never diverge from the path of their fate
And, without knowing why, always say, ‘Let’s go.’
They are the ones whose desires have the shape of clouds,
And who dream as a new recruit dreams of cannon fire,
Of limitless pleasures, ever-changing, unknown,
Which the human mind has never been able to name.