I am not the man I was before I fell to travel’s spell,
Now in the vein of Ulysses in his yearning for the swell.
I have danced along the architecture of ancient Greece
And in many foreign cafés found my smile and my peace.
I have trekked the jungle valleys and beheld the jaguar’s stare.
I kissed a French girl at Moulin Rouge one evening for a dare.
To be back home is to be subjected to an itch that never ends,
Though I am Fortune’s happy fool in the company of my friends.
Even when our glasses clink in our favorite Downtown bars,
I remember nights in Dublin when I burned against the stars.
My youth is a diptych of love and loss, I’ll crown no other queen.
My concern is only for newer worlds and all their sights unseen.
I am not the man I was before this travel worked to mend,
No worries here; in three years’ time my American life will end.