*Upon the threshing-floor of life I burn
Beside the Winnower a word to learn;
And only this: Man’s of the soil and sun,
And to the soil and sun he shall return.
And like a spider’s house or sparrow’s nest,
The Sultan’s palace, though upon the crest
Of glory’s mountain, soon or late must go:
Ay, all abodes to ruin are addrest.
So, too, the creeds of Man: the one prevails
Until the other comes; and this one fails
When that one triumphs; ay, the lonesome world
Will always want the latest fairy-tales.
Seek not the Tavern of Belief, my friend,
Until the Sakis there their morals mend;
A lie imbibed a thousand lies will breed,
And thou’lt become a Saki in the end.
Light! Light! May it shine in our hearts, no matter how dark the world.
May it stream forth from our hearts, no matter how gloomy the horizons.
At night my lowly hut in the valley is poorly candle-lit,
Yet my eye sees all the light in the world and reflects it therein.
And if the storm should uproot my hut like a tree, and bear it to the mouth of the river,
There among the rocks is a cave, an impenetrable haven from the storm,
There, too, the light of the sun and the stars.
And if the skies become dark, and the stars and the planets are seen no more,
Yet is there light everlasting within this human heart.
May light shine in our hearts, no matter how gloomy the horizons
Seek not the Tavern of Belief, my friend,
Until the Sakis there their morals mend;
A lie imbibed a thousand lies will breed,
And thou’lt become a Saki in the end.