Art in the Light of Conscience

yard or so from the window,
Plucking the woollen threads of a burnous,
He swore by the ice of steep places:
Sleep on, my girl, but I…return as avalanche!

Further, about a fence:
Unforgettable the more
For dust distending it,
For wind uncasing spore
To cast abroad on burdocks.
About the wind:
Wind attempts to raise
The rose’s head, requested
Thereto by lips, hair, shoes,
Familiar names and hemlines.
About a house in the country:
Still the woods are ours, for porch;
Moon’s fire behind the pines, for stove;
And like an apron hanging out, fresh laundered,
A thundercloud that mutters, drying out.
About the steppe:
Mist from all quarters is a sea about us
As thistle-patches check us, catch at socks…

Paid for with years of suffering –
Yet do not weaken in spirit,
In time of tribulations
Mankind is solely alive
Through the round robin of good!
Wherever your heart bids you live,
In world’s bustle or country quiet,
Pour out fearlessly and freely
The treasures of your soul!
Don’t seek or expect a return,
Nor let cruel jibes disturb you.
Mankind is solely rich
In the round robin12 of good!

Whatever life may keep in store,
Dear children, there will be much sorrow,
The crafty nets of temptation,
The darkness of burning repentance,
The yearning of hopeless desires,
And cheerless unending toil,
And a dozen moments of happiness