davey

Hi.

So, um, this is pretty random, but I was wondering if anyone could help me with something; there's a poem that has been stuck in my head for days. The problem is that I haven't heard/read it in years, and I don't remember what it's called or who wrote it. I just remember bits and pieces, so maybe if I tell you, you'll know. [Please forgive my terrible Spanish, as well as my inability to make accent marks or place a tilde on top of an 'n']

Hace diez anos que recorro el mundo.
He vivido poco, me he cansado mucho.

Quien viva de prisa no viva de veras.
Quien no hecha raices no puede dar frutos.
Ser rio que corre, ser nube que pasa
Sin dejar recuerdos ni rastro ninguno
es triste. Es mas triste para quien se sienta
nube en lo elevado, rio en lo profundo.

...then I remember a bit about a winding road, and coming home and looking at pictures? Forgive me, but it's killing me.