The New Copernicus

I have a house, a little one, And hidden there inside I’m screened quite nicely from the sun, And the burning light. For there are tiny windows, Latches, shutters there, Alone I am as happy As with a pretty girl. Since, O wonder! Just for me The forest moves about, And the farthest country Comes nearer to my heart. And the wooded hills as well They come dancing by: The only thing that’s missing Is the merry dwarf’s wild cry. Yet so completely quiet and hushed It rushes past me there, Sometimes straight, and often curved, And that’s what I prefer. If I choose to look more closely, till All’s carefully considered, Perhaps these things are standing still – And I myself have traveled.