A light far away, through the woods and waters,
Glows slowly, leaves white smoke from a fire
Raw smell of baked potatoes and herbs,
Fills the air, refreshing every nerve
Not a word to say but complete silence,
There he sits watching as his kettle syrens
Unknown to the world and in a world unknown
He walks lonely woods and mountains ... all alone
There's no quest here, neither an adventure
It's his own virtue to seek this venture
Those who remembered him are now remembered
His own remembrance seems a little endangered
A hermit crab he is, making his own sand castles,
Leaving his footprints for another lost traveller