he-the-wandering-i

the road is too long
the sky is too vast
the wandering heart
is homeless at last

...

the old are kind
but the young are hot
love may be blind
but desire is not

...

i long to hold some lady
for my love is far away,
and will not come tomorrow
and was not here today

there is no flesh so perfect
as on my lady's bone,
and yet it seems so distant
when i am all alone:

as though she were a masterpiece
in some castled town,
that pilgrims come to visit
and priests to copy down

alas, i cannot travel
to a love i have so deep
or sleep too close beside
a love i want to keep

but i long to hold some lady,
for flesh is warm and sweet
cold skeletons go marching
each night beside my feet

- leonard cohen.