Three or four times only in my youth did I glimpse the Joyous Isles, before they were lost to fogs, depressions, cold fronts, ill winds, and contrary tides … I mistook them for adulthood. Assuming they were a fixed feature in my life's voyage, I neglected to record their latitude, their longitude, their approach. Young ruddy fool. What wouldn't I give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds.
In this reflection, the speaker recalls fleeting moments of joy experienced during youth, moments that they believed would remain consistent as they transitioned into adulthood. However, as they grew older, those joyous experiences faded away, obscured by life's challenges and unforeseen complications. The speaker expresses a sense of regret for not documenting these precious moments, assuming they were permanent elements of their life's journey.
Now, the speaker longs for a tangible guide that would allow them to navigate these elusive joys, akin to a map of ever-changing clouds. This desire highlights a yearning for stability in the midst of life's uncertainties, as well as the remorse for not appreciating and recording those beautiful moments when they occurred, realizing too late their transient nature.
