Do Not Weep, Maiden, For

If There Is A Witness To My Little Life,to My Tiny Throes And Struggles,he Sees A Fool;and It Is Not Fine For Gods To Menace Fools.

He Vaguely Desired To Walk Around And Around The Body And Stare; The Impulse Of The Living To Try To Read In Dead Eyes The Answer To The Question.

In The Desert I Saw A Creature, Naked, Bestial, Who, Squatting Upon The Ground, Held His Heart In His Hands, And Ate Of It. I Said, ‘is It Good, Friend?’ ‘it Is Bitter — Bitter,’ He Answered, ‘but I Like It Because It Is Bitter, And Because It Is My Heart.

He Saw That It Was An Ironical Thing For Him To Be Running Thus Toward That Which He Had Been At Such Pains To Avoid.

When It Occurs To A Man That Nature Does Not Regard Him As Important, And That She Feels She Would Not Maim The Universe By Disposing Of Him, He At First Wishes To Throw Bricks At The Temple, And He Hates Deeply The Fact That There Are No Bricks And No Temples.