Since I am not gifted as thrall, I tried to translate a Dutch poem of the late J. Slauerhoff, a doctor wandering the world as a ship's fysician. My former GF gave it to me while I was having one of those tiring battles in my brain. In the short period I am on the forum, I get the idea so many of us long for that Island.
It probably won't do the poet right, however there is no official English translation. So this will have to do.

This Island

For the kind hearted, oppressed ones
Unwilling for labour,
The deliberately failed
And the most indifferent ones

The chaste and reckless
Appalled by the easy life
Preferring the wastelands
Above cities and villages

Who fought without praise
Lost battles
And gave their best forces to
Support the feeblest of thrones

For all, killed,
By their dislikes of gain
Only ruled by their dreams
Despite mock and ridicule

I do claim this island
I raise the black flag
Declare all nations my enemies
Only accepting the law of the deep blue skies

Those approaching with good intentions
Trade, lust or conversion
The reefs will cast their spells
The atoll will wash them away

The whole world is at order
Leave my island at peace
Fierce it will remain
As long as I take shelter at it’s shore.