No Regrets Sailor; And Yet To Go?

He pushes the boat into the sea. He jumps and holds the rickety oars, Sits comfortably And he rows. Waves welcome him in a friendly manner And he sings his soliloquy! 'The trip won't be rough and calm like a lass.' Then the vast sky responds; 'There won't be rough at all But you know where you go? Wherever you go do not come to a conclusion That the voyage is over and yet to go? ' [Take care my seafarer son! And please convey my loving regards to old friends perhaps with their wreckage, if you meet them on your way! Let them know that your grandpa still breathes hardly! ] * To Oskar! one of my poet friends.