Caminante No Hay Camino by Antonio Machado translated by Mary G. Berg and Dennis Maloney

Caminante, son tus huellas
el camino y nada más;
Caminante, no hay camino,
se hace camino al andar.
Al andar se hace el camino,
y al volver la vista atrás
se ve la senda que nunca
se ha de volver a pisar.
Caminante, no hay camino
sino estelas en la mar.

Traveler, your footprints
are the only road, nothing else.
Traveler, there is no road;
you make your own path as you walk.
As you walk, you make your own road,
and when you look back
you see the path
you will never travel again.
Traveler, there is no road;
only a ship’s wake on the sea.

XXXV by Antonio Machado

Consciousness takes two forms. One is light, the other patience. One involves shining some light into the depths of the sea;
the other on waiting it out,
with a pole or net, waiting for
the fish, like a fisherman.
Tell me, which is better?

The consciousness of the visionary who watches live fish
in the watery depths, fugitives
that will never be caught,
or this cursed job
of tossing up on the sand,
dead, the fish of the sea?