Page:Poems (Eminescu).pdf/55

 Critics, you, like barren flowers, Ever fruitless, know it well: ’Tis most easy to write verses, When one nothing has to tell.

Of the masts by thousands leaving Shores which many an ocean laves, O how many will be shattered By the winds and by the waves.

Of the birds by thousands wand’ring, Many a one a grave soon finds, While still hopeful it is driven By the waves and by the winds.

If to high ideals aspiring, Or thy soul but fortune craves, Thou art driven wheresoever By the winds and by the waves.

Never understood the thought is That the song in wing’d words binds, Ever floating, far off echoed By the waves and by the winds.