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.’

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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.