Jeg kom fra bortenfor havet og hvor drar jeg når havet avskjærer meg ? --- Yo llegue de detrás del mar y donde voy cuando me ataja ?

The wild winds weep,
And the night is a-cold;
Come hither, Sleep,
And my griefs unfold:
But lo ! the morning peeps
Over the eastern steeps,
And the rustling beds of dawn
The earth do scorn.

Lo! to the vault
Of paved heaven,
With sorrow fraught
My notes are driven:
They strike the ear of night,
Make weep the eyes of day;
They make mad the roaring winds,
And with tempests play.

Like a find in a cloud,
With howling woe
After night I do crowd,
And with night will go;
I turn my back to the east
From whence comforts have increas'd
With frantic pain...