What are the ways of this man’s soul?
What course has he chosen, what goal, wandering
where only madmen and demigods dare or can soar?
He cast off the cares of the day
like a bird its shell.
This was a birth and a soaring.
The man died and a citizen was born,
one moment his family’s,
now the world’s.
One moment he mingled only with three,
and now with millions of men.
His wings clattered
where the world is a small spark
on the paper ash of night.
As he swished by the stars,
they trembled
like candlelight in a breath of air.
He soared and soared.
One star is millions and millons of miles
from another,
and still he left them swiftly behind
like a rider
who gallops by the trees of a forest.
He passed billions of stars
and reached …
and reached …
not the limit of infinity
but the center.
And he stood before the Being
who governs the worlds
with a glance,
whose essence is light
and in the radiance of whose eyes
planets and moons revolve around the suns.
He spoke
bathed in protolight
like a swan
in the transparence of a lake—
“O worshipful and hallowed God!
A speck of dust has risen
to bow in your presence.
I am your faithful son.
You sent me on a dificult course, Father,
but I shall not rebel.
I adore you
for showing me your love.
The peoples of earth are wicked
and turned from you to become slaves …
Slavery is the parent evil,
and the others are its children.
Man bowing to man
belittles you, O God!
You are mocked,
but your glory shall be restored.
You have given me one life, Father,
and I consecrate it to your service.
What is the reward? Or is there one?
I will not ask.
The worst servant will lift a finger for pay.
I have worked
without need or hope for reward,
and I shall go on.
I shall be rewarded
when I see men as men
who rose from slaves,
because I love them
though they are sinful.
Give me light and strength, O God,
to work for my fellow man.”
He returned to earth and the room
where his cold body waited.
The man awoke,
a shiver passing through him.
Sweat on his brow …
He could hardly tell
whether he was awake or asleep …
awake, because he was sleepy
and his eyelids were heavy.
He rose
and staggered
to the straw sack.
A man who walks heaven
sleeps on the floor!
Hangmen
by their heads on silken pillows,
and the benefactor of the world
crashes on a pallet.
The candle flickered and died.
Night dissolved
like a secret passing on lip to lip.
The first ray of the rising sun
fell on the face of a sleeping man
like a wreath of gold, like a
warm kiss from the mouth of God.