Now as at all times I can see in the mind's
eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale
unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depths of
the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten
stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side
by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find
once more,
Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial
floor.
Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these
recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless,
of cities fill'd with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself,
(for who more foolish than I, and who
more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the
objects mean, of the struggle ever
renew'd,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding
and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the
rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring --
What good amid these, O me, O life?
Answer.
That you are here--that life exists and
identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you
may contribute a verse.
I never hear the word "Escape"
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation --
A flying attitude!
I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars
Only to fail again!
This is the debt I pay
Just for one riotous day,
Years of regret and grief,
Sorrow without relief.
Pay it I will to the end --
Until the grave, my friend,
Gives me a true release --
Gives me the clasp of peace.
Slight was the thing I bought,
Small was the debt I thought,
Poor was the loan at best --
God! but the interest!
As a friend to the children commend me the Yak.
You will find it exactly the thing:
It will carry and fetch, you can ride on its back,
Or lead it about with a string.
The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Thibet
(A desolate region of snow)
Has for centuries made it a nursery pet,
And surely the Tartar should know!
Then tell your papa where the Yak can be got,
And if he is awfully rich
He will buy you the creature -- or else he will not.
(I cannot be positive which.)
Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.
Banish Air from Air --
Divide Light if you dare --
They'll meet
While Cubes in a Drop
Or Pellets of Shape
Fit --
Films cannot annul
Odors return whole
Force Flame
And with a Blonde push
Over your impotence
Flits Steam.
That time of year thou mayest in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me though seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou seest the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
My Spring sleep is unswayed by dawn --
Though birds are heard through screen, still drawn.
Recalling night sounds of rain and wind,
I wonder how the flowers have thinned?
Original in Chinese:
春眠不覺曉，
處處聞啼鳥。
夜來風雨聲，
花落知多少。
The quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
From The Merchant of Venice (Act IV, Scene I.) Spoken in a court of law by Portia while she is disguised as a lawyer, Balthazar.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 