Where are you man

Where are you man, paramount to your original?

I'm looking for you, endlessly.

You're not borne by the earth sunken in sickness,
nor by the mother in chains.
Nor can black waves form your figure from the foam.

You are not brought to mountains, valleys, by rusty grey
clouds.
Nor are you borne by the fire of war, no!

In vain I cry for you, new man, like the dawn,
as the morning awakening on the lap of roses, without
danger.

Only an image you are, new man, in dreams, at times,
and while awake, such a stranger.

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