THE EARTH VIEWED FROM THE SEA
Arriving from the horizon, our ship is confronted by the wharf of the Earth; and the continent, emerging, spreads its immense architecture out before us. In the morning distinguished by one great star, as I mount the gangway the earth’s blue apparition appears before my eyes. To defend the sun against the pursuit of the restless ocean, this continent has established the deep-set solidity of its ramparts. Their breaches open into a happy countryside.
For a long time in the full daylight we follow the frontier of another world. Carried along by the trade-winds, our ship veers and rebounds upon the resilient abyss to which it confides its whole weight. I am caught up to the Azure, I am stuck there like a cask. Captive of the infinite, suspended at the intersection of sky and water, I see below me all the somber Earth laid out like a chart—the whole world, humble and enormous! My separation from it is irrevocable. All things are far from me, and only sight connects me with them. It will never again be vouch-safed me to set my foot on the solid earth, to construct with my hands a dwelling of wood and stone, to eat in peace food cooked at the domestic fire. Soon we will turn our prow toward the shoreless sea; and, under an immense spread of sail, our advance into the midst of eternity will be shown only by our signal lights.