THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 
 
 

 
 
 I m a son of a foreign land, 
 
 And maybe foreign sounds my song; 
 But that my voice shall be heard here, 
 
 I cherish the dream in heart long. 
 
 And if you would not understand 
 A word, a feeling, or a thought, 
 
 Then of a wanderer you think 
 
 That from a far land flowers brought. 
 
 By A. ZIMMERMAN. 
 
 626094
 
 Copyright 1922 
 
 by 
 A. Zimmerman
 
 Let them sing of the glory of the mountains high, 
 I will sing of their rocks and stones, 
 
 Of beast that there in darkness cry, 
 Of beast and bird and of their groans. 
 
 O let them sing of forests solemn great and old, 
 Of what it dreams and often grieves. 
 
 I will of its roots sing untold, 
 I will sing of the dying leaves. 
 
 I happy felt and laughed, 
 
 But when of laughter tired got, 
 
 Began to feel in me the devil laughs. 
 
 I gloomy felt and cried. 
 
 But when my heart became sick crying, 
 
 I felt the beast in me was howling wild. 
 
 And silent I became 
 
 And felt that I m a mortal God, 
 
 That silently speak to the eternal. 
 
 I saw today a song 
 
 Of charms and grace 
 You, you it were, 
 
 It was your face. 
 
 I heard today a dream 
 
 Of pure rejoice 
 It was of mirth 
 
 And cheer your voice.
 
 Poor girl, happy you are because 
 Near the window given a place 
 
 Where you rising your little head 
 See sometimes a passerby will face. 
 
 Poor girl, happy you are because 
 A little sunshine more you ll get. 
 
 O poor girl, your toil the sun 
 
 And the world will make you to forget. 
 
 Did you hear a sigh 
 
 In the darkness of the night 
 A deep and gentle sigh 
 
 That disturbed the silence quiet! 
 
 O, may be a spirit kind 
 
 Fleeted by, 
 Or we chosen were 
 
 To hear a sad angel cry. 
 
 We came in the world that our deathless souls 
 Shall feel that were in this world glorious great. 
 That in their wandering they didn t miss 
 A world. They misery and woe don t fear. 
 What it s to those that restless are to see 
 New heavens blue and stars above their heads.
 
 And the Creator Lord said to Chaos: 
 
 "I want of you a world to create, 
 Chaos, Chaos, I will make of you 
 
 A world great." 
 
 Then wailed and roared ages long, long Chaos 
 And said, O Lord, "Let me what was be 
 
 From commandments holy and from rules, 
 And laws free." 
 
 And the Lord long thought and said to Chaos: 
 
 "Don t fear, and don t dread, you my first born! 
 You will never, never from the world 
 
 Be forlorn." 
 
 * * * * 
 
 A voice I heard that I dreaded and distrusted 
 That whispered to me: 
 "Disregard the world! 
 Scoff the wise ! 
 
 Let them walk their paths of right 
 And you go your wrong path. 
 Let them laugh loudly at you 
 You laugh inwardly at them. 
 Let them laugh in daylight at you 
 You laughed at them in the darkness of night. 
 Let them find strength in the strength of the mul 
 titudes 
 You seek strength in the strength of the one." 
 
 * * * * 
 
 I know sometimes days and weeks long: 
 
 Your soul is burdened with a great, great feeling 
 
 And you don t know why. But it is a song 
 It is a song that is your heart deep thrilling. 
 
 Believe this thought, believe your inner voice! 
 
 Don t say: "Not often generous is to us the nature. 
 O, it itself is full with great rejoice, 
 
 When makes with a song a soul or creature." 
 
 5
 
 Iff 
 
 r 
 
 TWO PRAYERS 
 
 Father, father of the world! 
 
 See as a beast wild 
 For a rabbit hunts 
 
 Trailing yours a helpless child. 
 
 Father, father of the world! 
 
 See the poor beast s pain, 
 As a whole night long 
 
 Starving hunts for prey in vain. 
 
 Your sorrow deep you cannot tell, 
 You would your soul yourself offend- 
 
 Rut I your inner woe and pain 
 In my soul feel and understand. 
 
 Still untouched is your body white 
 And your tried, tempted soul is pure, 
 
 And all the storms great of days young. 
 Endured as wise old saints endure. 
 
 And now your body snowy white, 
 And your soul sweet you give away 
 
 To one that filled you with a sense 
 That you forever are his prey.
 
 In their iron cages 
 
 I watched the wild beasts, 
 And by the lion old 
 
 Deeply was impressed. 
 
 And not by his strength, 
 And not by his grace, 
 
 But by his desire 
 
 Back and forth to pace. 
 
 No man ever chained, 
 
 No king in a cell 
 Could more of his woe 
 
 Than this pacing tell. 
 
 I every day, hour every find 
 In me another unknown soul. 
 
 And left forgotten in behind 
 
 A fleeting dream, a deathless goal. 
 
 And dead tomorrow will be I 
 Dead will be the one of today, 
 
 And now for my soul dying cry 
 
 And now for the new born one pray.
 
 O many thousands songs I wrote 
 
 And not a crust of bread for them I get 
 And youth and life I sacrified for them, 
 
 And that at night could write them, at day sweat. 
 And for them challenged life and death. 
 
 And I will may be struggling, struggling fall. 
 And those that will some day besmirch my name, 
 
 And those that insight will gain in my strange life, 
 Or that -they gained will slanderously claim 
 
 O, devil s roar ll get honor, gold and fame. 
 
 Once in my childhood poor and long, long gone 
 Of a strange pain in soul aware became 
 
 It burned and burned and burned days long and 
 
 nights 
 Till thought in me it burns God s sacred flame. 
 
 And then I heard a grave and solemn voice: 
 
 "O, mortal bend your knees and hide your face! 
 
 And let your heart rejoice a great rejoice, 
 
 Because you re chosen to speak for your race. 
 
 It is you that in the humblest hovel re born, 
 That to the great and mighty sent to speak 
 
 Because said leaders can make of forlorn 
 
 As thunders roar can make the weak and meek. 
 
 I am a beast that through the jungle 
 Is making his trail all alone, 
 
 That s a proud outcast of his heard 
 Distrusted by all and loved by none. 
 
 And his heart s craving for a friend, 
 But his own brother wouldn t greet, 
 
 And in a deadly grip would fall, 
 If he his mate desired would meet. 
 
 8
 
 There are thoughts that are born only in the mind 
 Of the poor, homeless, shelterless one 
 In the minds of those that are alone. 
 
 O, many of those were born in my mind. 
 
 There are thoughts that are born only in the mind 
 Of the one that is out in rain and storm. 
 And feels as on a rock a worm. 
 
 O, many of those were born in my mind. 
 
 There are thoughts that are born only in the mind 
 
 That cannot see a world in need, 
 
 And wants-f or others cry and plead. 
 O, many of those were born in my mind. 
 
 There are multitudes that weep 
 And the world sees never theirs a tear 
 Millions cry in sorrow and pain deep 
 That men in life never, never hear. 
 
 There s in poverty and darkness great 
 Hidden hopes and glimpses of rejoice, 
 
 O, Lord, let me see and hear their fate, 
 Let me of the voiceless be the voice. 
 
 I am a loving child of cosmos, 
 A little child wise and deep feeling 
 That looks in the face sorrowful 
 Of his poor helpless, helpless mother. 
 And he feels all her pains and woes. 
 And he suspects hidden miseries 
 That with his love he cannot relieve. 
 And in his heart there s fear and pity 
 For his poor mother and himself 
 And he tries to console her and 
 Tears bitter tears of a little child 
 Soul-broken roll down his cheeks. 
 
 <J
 
 When I am tired of the world, 
 When I am sick of the world, 
 When I am mad at the world- 
 Then I want to go to a forest 
 Or a field covered with grass, 
 Because there are times when men and women and 
 
 children love; 
 And there are times when men and women and 
 
 children hate, 
 
 But in the bitterest moments of my life 
 Never felt yet hate in my soul to a tree 
 Or a blade of grass. 
 
 The mystery of my strength was that I never 
 seemed to the world what I am. 
 
 And I seemed to be foolishly smiling the smile of a 
 fool peasant when I scoffed the world. 
 
 And 1 seamed to be a boneless weakling, 
 
 When I felt that stronger than storms was my 
 desire to say my word. 
 
 And I seemed to be a willing slave when bathe and 
 drown could my masters in the boundless sneer 
 ing hate of my soul. 
 
 For the sun and field and forest 
 
 Cries your soul 
 And you re told: Your holiest calling 
 
 Is to toil. 
 
 And for goals far and world endless 
 
 Long and crave, 
 And you re tought: The greater virtue 
 
 Is to slave. 
 
 10
 
 Days of misery knew, 
 
 When was hungry and cold, 
 And my pockets contained 
 
 I thought mountains of gold. 
 
 And I voiceless was, 
 
 And degraded and meek, 
 
 And thought that I was born 
 To a great world to speak. 
 
 With the gift I was born 
 To feel and understand, 
 
 But I ran from my foe 
 And still further from fired. 
 
 And I dreamed and I thought: 
 This is the wonderful fate 
 
 Of the one that wants help 
 God his world to create. 
 
 11
 
 Woe s to the beast that to face s born. 
 Rain and hail and wild wind and storm- 
 To wander days lost and forlorn 
 And givens a shelter quiet and warm. 
 
 Woe s to the beast that s born to roam 
 In fear and terror seeking prey 
 And given is he it a restful home, 
 And blood to drink and bones to play. 
 
 Woe s to the beast that is born to scent 
 
 Of deadly enemy the breath 
 
 And that protected from man s hand 
 
 And from beast s claws and beast s sharp teeth. 
 
 O Lord, Lord as my ancestor of old 
 
 To sacrifice my child wouldn t fear, 
 If sacrifice him would be told, 
 
 But, pray, don t make your message him to bear! 
 
 O Lord, your will I wouldn t disobey 
 
 And slaughter would my only son 
 But Lord, my Lord, O Lord, I pray 
 
 He shall not be born as me, your chosen one! 
 
 12
 
 Where is your fatherland? your say? 
 
 I was with you in the same old world born 
 And father poor and mother sweet I mourn, 
 
 And to the same old God I pray. 
 
 And in my childhood poor in sadness gone, 
 Loved I to look at the moon late at night, 
 And loved to see the same old stars bright, 
 
 And greeted as you were by the same sun. 
 
 And taken back by mother earth will be. 
 
 And as yours my soul God will have to face, 
 And glory immortal and endless grace 
 
 My soul and your soul of the same Lord ll see. 
 
 God loves all, all the lonesome 
 
 Those that are with sad and sick souls, 
 
 With longings hidden deep in their hearts 
 For far, far worlds and unreached goals. 
 
 God s with those that in silence cry 
 
 And only cry when all alone. 
 For the dreams holy unattained, 
 
 And for the days dear that are gone. 
 
 God loves the lonesome all that cry 
 As old oaks dying lonely quiet 
 
 Because long hours he himself, 
 Cries in the darkness of the night. 
 
 God loves to be with all that cry 
 When all alone of their sad fate. 
 
 O, he himself of world s fair dreamed 
 Long ages that he couldn t create.
 
 LIFE AND DEATH 
 
 On a summer sunny morning, 
 When the heavens scattered gold, 
 
 Chopping wood once saw 
 A man under a tree old. 
 
 And the tree in glory green 
 Greeted east and greeted west, 
 
 And spoke of its silken leaves, 
 And of the birds in its nests. 
 
 I bless you, Lord, for the great glory 
 
 Of being by my brother men misunderstood. 
 
 And for the joys of bearing all their burdens, 
 And that for them I chosen was to brood. 
 
 I bless you, Lord, that I for them 
 
 Not they for me in darkness often shed a tear. 
 That I their pains to know their woes to carry 
 
 Born was not they my to know and to bear. 
 
 You re laughing laugh, but you remember, 
 Not a sound in the world is lost. 
 
 That wander ll through a thousand worlds 
 Till reach will to the holy ghost. 
 
 You re crying cry, but you remember, 
 That ages long sound every soars. 
 
 And the Lord will turn away his face, 
 When hearken ll to your moaning coarse. 
 
 14
 
 O, when win my life-long battle would, 
 
 And conquered would be my fate, 
 
 And a glorious and great 
 Victory and joy I could. 
 Through a long day celebrate 
 A sorrow would feel that awake. 
 Can t my scoffers snatched by death; 
 
 That my sneerers are gone will regret- 
 The ones that urged to forsake 
 
 My goal, and dreams to forget. 
 
 Proud she was and pure, pure in soul, 
 But faltered once and had to fall. 
 Since then she felt in sorrow grim 
 There is no room for her and him 
 In this great world. But was to kind 
 Room for herself to seek to find. 
 So pure and proud and bold and grim, 
 She made room in the world for him. 
 
 When I feel a tear, 
 
 I don t let it fall 
 On the muddy ground to sink, 
 
 This is a child dear 
 Of my tortured soul 
 
 That s a song I ll adopt, I think.
 
 So I was mocked. 
 
 I was born in the world with the frail body 
 Of a half-starved beast 
 
 And the face of a stone cutter or woodchopper, 
 And a soul that wanted to be always in the 
 Realms of thought and of dreams. 
 With a heart that yearned for the seen and unseen 
 Beautiful of life. 
 
 So I was mocked. 
 
 And so were you mocked. 
 Born with the grace and bearing of a king 
 With the strength of a beast that was fed 
 On warm blood and trembling yet with 
 Life flesh 
 
 You only sec the world you live in 
 And more you don t want and for more 
 You don t crave, 
 
 So were you mocked. 
 
 O Lord, I saw as your young children die 
 
 And as to death as brutal beast were sent, 
 And mother cried and fathers that couldn t cry 
 
 To their graves sad, heartbroken went. 
 And I, O Lord, wouldn t step on a crawling worm, 
 
 Lord, day every re buried angels sweet 
 That came in world to fill us with delight, 
 
 Born love to radiate with every breath, 
 Given to the horror of an endless right 
 
 And I to fallen leaves would give a shelter warm.
 
 When God loves me, 
 
 I smile 
 And his great presence 
 
 Feel for a while. 
 
 When God loves me, 
 
 I cry 
 And hear him asking: 
 
 Poor child, why, why! 
 
 More than the Lord of above 
 Pity I his children sick, 
 More than he his helpless weak 
 
 And all his creatures love. 
 
 Often pray for all the dead, 
 All the dead far, far and near, 
 And in my heart there is a tear 
 
 For all those that are with souls sad. 
 
 And the beauty feel I 
 
 More than He of birds that sing, 
 Of the flowers bright in spring 
 
 That so young and early die. 
 
 And I pity more the worm, 
 
 And the hungry roaming beast, 
 And the lark that lost her nest 
 
 In a night of rain and storm. 
 
 Than the Father of above, 
 Pity more his children poor, 
 And my soul cannot endure 
 
 To see them deprived of love. 
 
 17
 
 My unknown dear! 
 
 As there is a God in the world I swear, 
 That flesh of my own flesh I often tear 
 That songs I could create. 
 But may be younger flesh demand will fate. 
 
 O unknown dear! 
 
 Will you let me flesh of your young flesh tear 
 That songs I could create? 
 
 My unknown dear! 
 
 As there is one God in the world I swear, 
 That blood of my blood to pour I don t fear 
 That songs I could create. 
 But may be purer blood demand will fate. 
 
 O unknown dear! 
 
 To pour your young pure blood would not you fear 
 That songs I could create? 
 
 I saw my richest dream, most daring hopes 
 In the full bloom of a full life. 
 But not in my own poor dark life, 
 But in the lives of those that never 
 As I decades long toiled for bread 
 And did not slave and sweat for a shelter, 
 And never were nights long awake, 
 And never knew the pains heartbreaking 
 Of failures great year after year; 
 And never saw the ruins ghastly 
 As I of what they built and built 
 With blood and tears. 
 
 18
 
 Far in the cloudless, blue, blue of the heaven 
 Before my gaze my soul a cloud detects. 
 
 And every trembling ray of an old star 
 Reflects. 
 
 And often for the color of a rainbow 
 My lord in soul unwillingly reproach 
 
 And feel sometimes a star is there in the world 
 Too much. 
 
 The rustle of fallen leaves 
 Spoke to me and said: 
 
 "Death is in our lives 
 And alive when dead." 
 
 Memorizing whisper 
 
 Puzzles of life and death. 
 Wonders whisper, whisper, 
 Lest we them forget. 
 
 Birds that are dead will never sing. 
 Maybe this is the reason why 
 So often many of them die 
 
 In early spring. 
 
 Someone a great one that s somewhere, 
 The silence wants of a dark night 
 That the world s voiceless and quiet 
 
 He wants to hear. 
 
 19
 
 O, hearken to me Lord, 
 I speak for brother-man. 
 
 We want a God that roar 
 A healthy laughter can. 
 
 And be a fool as we, 
 
 And with us children play. 
 And shall not expect of us 
 
 Our worship and our pray. 
 
 O, hearken to me God! 
 
 I speak for brother-men. 
 We want and need a God 
 
 That with real tears cry can. 
 
 We are tired and bored to death 
 You to bless, to you pray. 
 
 And often mad makes us 
 That you re so far away. 
 
 O, hearken to me God! 
 
 I speak for brother-men. 
 Live with us, play with us, 
 
 Cry with us, if you can. 
 
 Shing Lee kneeled before almighty Buddah 
 
 And, devotedly in woe and pain, 
 Prayed for the peace in his land, 
 
 For bread, sunshine and for rain. 
 
 And lo! a great and strange wonder happened- 
 Buddah solemnly moved once his head. 
 
 And Shing Lee, amazed by this great wonder, 
 Fell before his God on the ground dead. 
 
 20
 
 In olden times once a strange wonder happened: 
 A mother with a child in a jungle strayed. 
 
 And long she sought in vain a trodden path, 
 
 And long in vain to heaven s implored and prayed. 
 
 And then died the poor and helpless mother. 
 
 And many years by the breast of the dead 
 Till found there was once by a hunting king, 
 
 The infant with milk pure and fresh was fed. 
 
 Blood of my blood all over in the world 
 For life and light and sunshine craves. 
 
 And flesh of my flesh in the farthest corners of the 
 
 world 
 By worms are eaten and forever rot in cold graves. 
 
 And souls of my soul are in deep hell and heaven 
 
 for the good that did and the evil. 
 And brothers poor of mine and sisters helpless, 
 weak of mine, 
 
 In sorrow and despair call for God and the devil. 
 
 Things that would call a miracle in my life, 
 That my soul would spur and overwhelm 
 
 I saw in the lives of others. 
 
 And they were calm and ungrateful, 
 
 And, as suckling babies that bite the breast that 
 feeds them, 
 
 They drink of the joy of life, 
 And despise the source of them. 
 
 And given are they to them by the same power 
 
 That deprived me of light and air. 
 
 21
 
 Said the new world to the old: 
 You with toilers simple and plain 
 Only paying re for my grain. 
 
 For my bread and blood and gold." 
 
 Said the old world to the new: 
 "Pay you ll with another wage 
 I the singer of the age, 
 
 Send you will sincere and true." 
 
 Begin, begin, begin, begin. 
 This is what a new born child is told. 
 And this we hear in our age old- 
 Begin, begin, begin, begin. 
 To live, to laugh, to love, to win. 
 Begin, begin, begin, begin, 
 To dream, to ask, to think, to speak, 
 To wander and to roam and seek. 
 Begin, begin, begin, begin, 
 To hope, to do, to build, to sin. 
 
 Kiddie, Kiddie, a little dove, 
 
 A dove wounded found, a mother sad. 
 She so motionless and quiet 
 
 Lay that thought that she is dead. 
 
 "And what ll you do with the dove?" 
 
 My child, my little child ! This dove will kill. 
 
 And for baby darling sweet, 
 And for you will cook a meal. 
 
 22
 
 A TRAGEDY OF THE JUNGLE 
 
 Back from the Jungle dying 
 Came to his den a wild beast, 
 
 Bleeding from a wound 
 Deadly in his breast. 
 
 The cubs licked the blood stained sand, 
 
 Fighting lustily around, 
 Waiting till more blood 
 
 Will be on the ground. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 From behind the old trees, 
 Looked long I at the naked moon. 
 And she dreamed in her nude glory. 
 Then she saw me, and confused 
 She smiled, and to hide herself 
 
 Tried behind the clouds. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 One thing my hard life impresses 
 
 Always on my mind 
 Not to see the pains of men, 
 
 And be to their sorrows blind. 
 As they are to my sorrows blind. 
 
 And another thing impresses 
 My life on my mind 
 
 To remember all my pains 
 When the world is not to me kind, 
 
 And be to the struggling kind. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Deaf of the world, blind of the world! 
 
 I can you understand. 
 O, cripples and hunchbacks of the world, 
 
 I am your brother friend! 
 
 As all the blind don t see sometimes, 
 As all the deaf sometimes don t hear. 
 
 And as the cripples and the hunchbacks 
 In strange shame often shed a tear,
 
 Far is the road and level is the road. 
 
 To lakes and mountains and to cities leads. 
 And the men that tread day and night the ground 
 
 Arc of every race and breed and many creeds. 
 
 And in times gone a traceless jungle it was. 
 
 And the trail first made a man lost, forlorn. 
 That prayed and cried and pleaded cursing fate 
 
 Not knowing that to tread a path was born. 
 
 It is a burden heavy 
 
 That men must bravely bear 
 In days of pain and sorrow 
 
 Not to dare shed a tear. 
 And my soul cries and cries 
 
 And is longing for the right 
 That to my sisters is given 
 
 To cry in days of plight. 
 
 A thought lurked in my mind, 
 
 A thought that my soul stirred, 
 And troubled me for a while, 
 And disappeared. 
 
 Who knows maybe it is the thought 
 
 That wanders ages long, 
 That seeks a holy mind 
 
 And fiery tongue. 
 
 Maybe it was a thought 
 
 That would a world enlight, 
 
 And point to shortest path 
 To love and right. 
 
 24
 
 Maybe you have no God above, 
 Maybe as grass you grow and die, 
 
 Maybe as beast in field and forest 
 To no one call, to no one cry. 
 
 But his might and his force I feel 
 
 In the bread that I m given and not given 
 
 In every painful wound of mine 
 Feel the hand of the Lord in heaven. 
 
 A water drop on the ground, fell 
 And, as if beast and men it feared, 
 
 It began to sink in the sand dry 
 
 And from the surface it disappeared. 
 
 It went to the depths of the earth, 
 
 The source of hidden springs to seek, 
 That could come back with a stream fair 
 Or with a noisy jumping creek. 
 
 I ll find you among ten thousand, 
 
 When come will my day; 
 I ll find you among ten thousand 
 
 As a beast his prey. 
 
 A sight of yours, yours a whisper, 
 
 Will you me betray; 
 Here s the spoil that to me is promised 
 
 In wild joy I ll say. 
 
 25
 
 She cried long in the great, great silence 
 
 And in the darkness of the night 
 And he stood helplessly and humbled, 
 
 And silent was and quiet. 
 In the deep darkness of the night. 
 
 And those that heard it (angels heard it), 
 Cried long, long and noiselessly quiet. 
 
 They cried the strange way silence cries, 
 As darkness cries at night. 
 
 But they cried with him that was quiet. 
 
 You, too, young sweet faced girl, 
 
 With sunhreak hurry to the factory gate! 
 Where you will share with us 
 
 Our miserable dark fate. 
 
 () if to toil, sweet child, 
 
 Must always I for shelter and for bread- - 
 Why doesn t my slavery 
 
 Free you of this fate sad. 
 
 I think, the Lord s my foe 
 And that he must me hate, 
 
 And feels regret and woe 
 That thought me to create. 
 
 He must be wrathful mad 
 That not poor man I blame, 
 
 That the world is gray and sad, 
 But that it s his fault claim. 
 
 26
 
 O, how beautiful are the words we don t say! 
 They re as flowers that never yet a petal lost, 
 
 They are as trees phantoms that their branches 
 
 sway- 
 But that are by rain and storm never tossed. 
 
 They are children of a joy that words couldn t find, 
 They re the shyness of one that beg did not dare. 
 
 Truth hidden of one that to tell the truth is too kind, 
 Wounds of one that a heart wounded would not 
 bare. 
 
 Words that weren t said are the curses of the wise, 
 And despair of the one that still cherishes his 
 faith. 
 
 Of those that in darkness trust a sun ll arise, 
 
 Bringing glowing blossoms, scatter raining light. 
 
 In Fall time winds blow day and night, 
 In Fall time winds blow the fallen leaves to scatter. 
 They scatter the leaves in the world, 
 The winds seek, seek for them far graves, graves 
 unknown. 
 
 That in the long cold winter nights 
 
 The bare trees should not see around dead children. 
 
 The winds blow them away far, far 
 
 That the sorrow of the trees shall not be too great. 
 
 27
 
 I am the one that fell a thousand times, 
 
 And that heard the crowd jeer, "You lost!" 
 
 But I could never dare to lose 
 I was ashamed to lie in dust. 
 
 1 was ashamed to breathe and not to struggle. 
 
 And disgrace feared a stone and grave, 
 If buried ll be as one that died in chains, 
 
 If die will with the marks of a slave. 
 
 Ten songs yesterday I wrote, 
 
 But I didn t earn my bread- 
 But today not one I wrote, 
 
 This day sold to earn my bread. 
 
 O the devil s quaint humor s subtle. 
 
 And enjoy would I his wit, 
 If not I would be his victim, 
 
 But just the same fine s his wit. 
 
 There are two in the world that know who I am- 
 
 God and me. 
 But he is silent, silent, silent. 
 
 And the world doesn t listen to me. 
 
 And the world does not listen to me. 
 
 28
 
 In the beginning of beginnings 
 Two deathless forces were, 
 
 And one could not obey, 
 
 The other one could not conquer. 
 
 And so our great world was created 
 And warm blood thirst our breasts, 
 
 And we cry for the world 
 
 And we are lambs and we are beasts. 
 
 That fate cruel on my road 
 
 I will meet, I knew 
 But, God, I didn t think to find 
 
 On my way you too. 
 
 I thought that by men ll be scoffed 
 
 That chose a path new, 
 But didn t think that scoffed will be 
 
 My Lord by you too. 
 
 The yellow trees with joy and love 
 See coming a girl pure and sweet. 
 
 And with deep tenderness they rustle 
 And as a dear friend loving greet. 
 
 The poor and simple trees happy are. 
 
 And they don t know that she wouldn t stroll 
 Among them late in summer days, 
 
 If unhappy wouldn t feel her soul. 
 
 29
 
 I am driven by a duty 
 
 That s as hard as fate. 
 Stronger than all deepest passions 
 
 To create and recreate. 
 
 I am tortured by an urging 
 
 Of my cosmic soul. 
 To serve a God cosmic, 
 
 To enrich a cosmic goal. 
 
 There are strange days in my and your life 
 
 When a twittering bird us offend, 
 And provoked are by a fleeting star, 
 
 And hard s to bear the voice of a friend. 
 
 You long and long and you don t know why. 
 
 And things that you never craved, you crave. 
 And, woe s to you when you are a king! 
 
 And, woe s to you when you are a slave! 
 
 In days as these thoughts of his gone youth 
 
 Fills the old with a great gloom. 
 The soul of the youth cries for his mate, 
 
 And a girl cries for her unknown groom. 
 
 30
 
 I would not love and would not bless. 
 
 Because with sorrow in my breast, 
 In helpless anguish always saw 
 
 Downtrodden and oppressed. 
 The dear ones that I loved, 
 
 The dear ones that I blessed. 
 
 I swear forever not to curse, 
 
 And no one in the world to hate. 
 
 Because the ones in wrath I cursed- 
 It was my cruel fate 
 
 To see them gain and win, 
 And battles won celebrate. 
 
 I strolled in the fields without a goal 
 
 And very sat I on a stone. 
 An endless jungle was in my soul 
 
 And was and felt I all alone, alone. 
 
 And I looked from afar at an oak old 
 That seemed as I to dream and long 
 
 And bushes in the distance called 
 
 To share with him the thrill of a bird s song. 
 
 The sun is hesitating, 
 The world to leave. 
 
 The shadows of the trees. 
 In silence grieve. 
 
 And creeping from afar 
 Comes the dark night, 
 
 And hushingly it whispers; 
 "Be quiet, be quiet !" 
 
 31
 
 The girls dive and the girls plunge, 
 And the girls dance, the girls swim. 
 
 What makes them so happy? Not thoughts, 
 Not a dream. 
 
 The girls love the blazing sun 
 
 And the sun see in the skies. 
 And when they gaze at the waves, 
 
 Its reflection meets their eyes. 
 
 I dreamed in the shadow 
 
 Of a old, old tree. 
 And deep in my soul 
 
 Felt it dreamed with me. 
 
 And, when evening dawned, 
 
 Rested left the tree, 
 And I fell it longed, 
 
 Lonijed to follow me. 
 
 THE ETERNAL WOMANLY 
 
 My father died when I was a little child, 
 And when young, very, of my mother was deprived. 
 Hut know that more my mother loved. 
 My brothers died in infancy but know 
 My sister s love I more than them would love. 
 And in the world the plight of woman strange 
 My pitying heart touches more and deeper 
 Than the plight and woe of my brother man. 
 And, if would children have, the caress gentle 
 Of a little daughter love more than my sons would.
 
 I put you on fire my poor songs. 
 
 Because when life by me were given, 
 My soul wasn t in heat and fever, 
 
 And flame of heaven. 
 
 And I dream you ll come back in the world- 
 When in my soul will be fire and light 
 
 And as stars eternal you ll shine 
 In a dark night. 
 
 Gentle, sweet and fragrant grew a flower 
 
 Of bird and bee a friend. 
 Once on a summer day its power 
 
 Lured to itself a cruel hand. 
 
 And for the dew and morning light, 
 
 And for the stars in heaven, 
 And for the dreams of evening quiet 
 
 Was water in a little glass given. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 In my life often thought the sun 
 
 Will come and give me light. 
 And then charred and burned were byit 
 
 The dreams and castles I built at night. 
 
 And the most tender breeze of spring 
 That cheer and vigor and relief 
 
 To my heart tired I hoped will bring 
 Brought me new often pains and grief. 
 
 The trees think a human thought. 
 
 And dream in a human spell. 
 And the moon is hinting unheard words, 
 
 Untold tales the stars little tell. 
 
 All obedient to the great Lord, 
 
 Quiet are and still 
 And the mysteries of his, 
 
 And his glory don t reveal. 
 
 33
 
 We were nothing and 11 be nothing, 
 As the far stars in the skies 
 
 As the cry of a little child, 
 And as the light of fire flies. 
 
 We were nothing and 11 be nothing, 
 As our predecessors gone. 
 
 Don t fall in love with the world! 
 Don t fall in love with the sun ! 
 
 Today was out I in the suburbs 
 
 And I began to stray. 
 And I stopped a little girl, 
 
 And asked her for my way. 
 
 And cheerfully the sweet girl-child, 
 The girl-child sweet and plain, 
 
 With manner solemn tried 
 Me my way to explain. 
 
 We parted and a feeling kind 
 Awoke deep in my breast, 
 
 And that shall never stray 
 In her life her I blessed. 
 
 We re wise and we are sad, 
 Because came from the greatest of worlds 
 From a world that was always nothing, 
 And s nothing, and ll be nothing, nothing. 
 
 We re thoughtful and we re gloomy, 
 Because go to the greatest of worlds 
 To a world that was always nothing, 
 And s nothing, and ll be nothing, nothing. 
 
 34
 
 I want a great sun for myself. 
 
 And of my own a night. 
 And darkness would I give the owl, 
 
 The skylark give would light. 
 
 I for myself demand a world 
 That you may be don t need 
 
 Where fish and seagulls fall in love, 
 And wolf with her milk rabbit ll feed. 
 
 A strange dream he dreamed. His slave said 
 To him in a voice low and meek: 
 
 "O, master, with this I ll buy bread, 
 But how can I be sick?" 
 
 "O, master, when my children ll live, 
 
 I shelter and food them I ll buy. 
 But, how I coffins and graves will give 
 
 My children when they ll die?" 
 
 In the blue heaven, 
 
 O, shimmering little star! 
 Are you too high? 
 
 I am too far? 
 
 Little, twinkling star 
 
 In the blue of the night, 
 You miss my song, 
 
 I miss your light! 
 
 35
 
 There s a fear in my heart that my soul 
 Will be overfilled with bitterness 
 And then, when a child ll tell me a word 
 Harsh or cruel, tears ll be in my eyes. 
 
 And men ll wonder and will say: "How foolish 
 He is. A child said a cruel word 
 And he cries as a little child himself 
 He would be." 
 
 And 1 said to the silence of the fields 
 
 I came to you that you shall life in me instill 
 
 I was told that the green of grass, 
 
 Hope and strength give again me will. 
 
 And with a sick and longing heart I said 
 
 To the spread glory of the endless blue in heaven: 
 
 "Faith and rest, and hopes, and dreams great 
 By you, I was told, to men s often given." 
 
 And the green of the grass, and the silence great, 
 And the blue of the heaven said: "O, we bless 
 
 With faith and joy, and cheer, and dreams 
 All those that joy and life and love possess." 
 
 36
 
 O, woe s to me that wise I am! 
 
 That so much sad I see ahead, 
 That the age old of children see, 
 
 And of young brides the future sad. 
 
 O, woe s to me that wise I am! 
 
 That ask why, why a home build I? 
 Why seek a mate and children have? 
 
 When she and I and they will die. 
 
 I want a slave 
 
 That, when will seek my heart to win, 
 Shall have the gift to feel 
 
 The hour stroke when long for a queen. 
 
 A ruler want, 
 
 A ruler unafraid and brave, 
 That feel shall that s the time 
 
 That most I need is a meek slave. 
 
 I was sad, sad today and glad 
 And happy felt, and unhappy felt 
 I met today the one that I 
 Would choose to be the mother great 
 Of our world. If the Lord decide 
 Would to create a better race. 
 And I couldn t fall on my knees, 
 And I could not touch with my lips 
 Her toes, and could not pray to her, 
 And couldn t ask her to touch me 
 With her pale fingers. 
 
 37
 
 A DREAM 
 
 In those days o cruel devil 
 
 That, when helpless was ll remind 
 Roaring wild a scoffing laughter 
 
 Followed me behind. 
 
 And I, cruelly triumphing, 
 Will at you my laughter roar, 
 
 And will make you feel the sorrows 
 Of my heart of yore. 
 
 LOOKING AT THE CROWD 
 
 Gloomy men, men sad 
 
 Out in rain and storm, 
 Struggle and fight for bread, 
 
 And for shelter warm. 
 
 Only I alone, alone, 
 
 Dream of things strange that by heaven 
 Only to a chosen one 
 
 Once in an age long is given.
 
 In a better world live will 
 
 Those that in the future will be born. 
 They our sorrows would not feel, 
 
 They our losses would not mourn 
 And their days in strife will not be forlorn. 
 
 But we chosen are by fate 
 
 To joys higher and to joys deep more 
 We re in the world to create 
 
 All that is for them in store, 
 And we are the father of the great. 
 
 We are two worlds, 
 
 Two worlds that long to meet, 
 And each of us 
 
 Is to the other sweet. 
 
 And when two worlds 
 In universe must meet, 
 
 The weaker one 
 
 The better one is lost. 
 
 Many, many children souls 
 
 Sweet and charming are in heaven 
 Why was taken back to his Lord, 
 
 When not long to earth w r as given? 
 
 Father, Father of the world, 
 Father of the pure and just? 
 
 You a little soul only gained 
 And a mother a world lost. 
 
 39
 
 Don t tell me you did not sin- 
 In a world of sinners we must hate the saints. 
 Don t tell me 3-011 did not sin, 
 Because of all sins one of the greatest is: NOT to 
 
 be human enough to sin. 
 Don t tell me you did not sin, 
 Because the greatest of sins is not to be brave 
 
 enough to sin. 
 
 Chilly are the starry heavens 
 And the dozing trees are quiet, 
 
 And you see the stars are proud 
 Of the splendor of their night. 
 
 Cloud and moon you sec are awake 
 In the full glory of their state. 
 
 You ask them for their subtle spell, 
 In a hush thev answer, "Wait." 
 
 Under the leaves yellow of the trees 
 
 Stood a girl child 
 Dressed in snowy white and scarlet 
 
 And innocently smiled. 
 
 At the picture looked admiring I 
 
 Of life and death. 
 O it s painful to remember, 
 
 Painful to forget. 
 
 40
 
 I saw today a happy girl 
 
 That was a job this morning given, 
 And felt as she would get a gift 
 
 From a fate kind or boon from heaven. 
 
 And this job I know ll bend her spine 
 And ruin will her girlish grace, 
 
 And break her youthful spirit will, 
 And rob the color of her face. 
 
 If I would be a God, maybe I bloody sacrifices 
 
 would demand 
 Because I know the fascination of demanding 
 
 sacrifices. 
 If I would be a high priest, I may be would offer 
 
 my brother man to my deity 
 Because I know the spell of offering. 
 If I would be a savage father, my child would 
 
 sacrifice 
 Because withstand couldn t the urging passion to 
 
 be a victim of my creator 
 
 Because I found I couldn t resist the lure of sacri 
 ficing my life, my youth and every throb of 
 
 my soul to an unknown God. 
 
 The waves of the ocean storm the boat. 
 O ocean, ocean, whom do have on the bottom? 
 To whom do you want to bring a precious gift? 
 Are the monsters hungry and you promised them a 
 
 meal? 
 Are the fishes gloomy and you promised them 
 
 playthings ? 
 
 41
 
 A mother was glad, 
 A mother was sad 
 
 A rope for her only son hidden she had. 
 In the gloom quiet, quiet, 
 Of a deep dark night 
 
 Wouldn t swinging hang hours long, long under 
 stars bright. 
 
 Himself when he ll feel 
 
 Chose his last hour will 
 
 r lhe hangman of hanging would not get his thrill. 
 
 A mother was glad 
 
 A mother was sad 
 
 A rope for her only son, hidden she had. 
 
 I like the city late at night, 
 
 When the stars in the skies are bright, 
 
 And felt is the mystery of sleep 
 
 In the breath of trees, silence deep. 
 
 And I feel that the world is gone, 
 When only for awhile alone. 
 And then I feel I am God s child, 
 Forgotten long in life wild. 
 
 And I want to speak to the Friend 
 Great, that me to this world once sent, 
 And ask what is a silent night? 
 A dreaming world and far stars bright. 
 
 42
 
 A little wound in heart 
 Made by grief I had, 
 
 That made me hours long, 
 That made me hours sad. 
 
 Now this pain forgot 
 And long overcame 
 
 I forgot it when 
 A woe deeper came. 
 
 It s a wonderful strange thing 
 
 That I early and late, late 
 Think and think, and think, and think 
 
 Of God, men and life and fate. 
 
 And to meet was never blessed 
 One that in my presence feel 
 
 Shall here s one that never rests, 
 Whose soul is never, never still. 
 
 O, mother my mother, you that raised me more with 
 tears than with bread! 
 
 What shall I tell you the sweetest and best? 
 You are the grand mother of all the songs 
 
 That I nurse in my breast. 
 
 43
 
 I am born with a soul to pity, 
 
 To pity all that are in need. 
 
 To feel the woes of the downtrodden. 
 
 But I am not a saint and when 
 
 I struggle hard most for my own bread, 
 
 And fight to have a roof above 
 
 My head the misery of men 
 
 Forget. 
 
 But I vow by the Holy Lord, 
 
 And my own long hard struggles swear 
 
 That for the bread of all the hungry, 
 
 And for their shelter I will fight, 
 
 When bread and shelter for myself 
 
 Will have. 
 
 I asked myself what is my gloom? 
 
 I answered when the day was done 
 In glory and in splendor saw 
 
 For a short while the setting sun. 
 
 I asked myself why do I brood? 
 
 And answered through the morning mist, 
 When hurried to my daily task, 
 
 At dawn I saw the sun in east. 
 
 I that dreamed of suns of my own, 
 
 That wants more light than the Lord made, 
 
 Day every long the only sun 
 
 That given was me for bread I trade. 
 
 44
 
 When a lion gets old and feeble 
 And for a rabbit hunt s too weak, 
 
 Doesn t he then think of his sad fate? 
 And doesn t he then to his Lord speak? 
 
 Doesn t he then lie and think and think 
 Why must he crave warm blood and meat? 
 
 Why wasn t created by the Lord 
 That as as zebra grass could eat? 
 
 Doesn t he roar his snarling roar 
 With scoffing innermost and hate? 
 
 That live as a king he was born 
 And die as a mouse is his fate. 
 
 I m born of the tribe of Jagudah, 
 
 An offspring of the house of David, 
 
 Of David, the King and psalm singer. 
 
 And God, the Lord great, to me said: 
 
 "You don t get no share and no portion 
 
 In the Possessions of Jagudah, 
 
 And no part you ll get in his dominions, 
 
 In the assembly great of mighty 
 
 You would not seat. But you will be 
 
 To me a singer as David my knight 
 
 The King great of Jagudah. 
 
 45
 
 And maybe 11 come to heaven, 
 As children back to home. 
 
 Tired of the long, long day 
 And tired to play and roam. 
 
 ^ 
 
 And there we ll stories tell 
 
 One killed a butterfly, 
 And one a garden ruined 
 
 And one told a big lie. 
 
 And satisfied will laugh 
 
 And bold and loud we ll boast, 
 And we ll dream the next day 
 
 Our pranks be wilder must. 
 
 I heard the Lord laughed bitterly and cried, 
 
 I chose you of a generation said, 
 To be a master and to be a reigning king 
 
 And you dig ditches went to earn your bread. 
 
 Souls ages long created and destroyed 
 
 And you to be my spokesman were told, 
 
 And you for miserable little crusts of bread, 
 And for a damp and dark cage your life sold. 
 
 46
 
 To give my sweet song life 
 
 Blood of my blood I give, 
 Soul of my soul they get 
 
 That a full life could live. 
 
 And my blood crying hear: 
 
 "Feeble man, spare your blood warm !" 
 And my soul cries: "Man, save 
 
 Your soul for days of storm! 
 
 O fools, fools what they are! 
 
 What is blood or a soul? 
 And what are stormy days 
 
 To one that has a goal. 
 
 Today I wander could and stroll, 
 Today could at the heavens I stare, 
 
 And with delight young in my soul 
 Breathe a little of God s air. 
 
 But few and counted are my free hours, 
 And the world of books is so great, 
 
 And love must be suppressed of flowers, 
 And stars when want my own create. 
 
 47
 
 I asked myself: "Why do I sing 
 
 Of sun and birds, and youth, and spring?" 
 
 The answer was "Because you live." 
 
 I asked myself: "Why do I dream, 
 
 And worlds destroy, and worlds redeem?" 
 
 The answer was "Because you live." 
 
 I asked: "Why all the burdens bear 
 
 Of a hard life, and death I fear?" 
 
 And answered "Because you live." 
 
 Maybe that miracles to see was oftener given 
 Than to great multitudes of men, though often 
 
 brood 
 Of my dark life. Stars and clouds fleeting saw in 
 
 heaven 
 And their spell felt and almost understood. 
 
 The witness of the birth of thoughts was in my 
 
 soul, 
 And know the glory sad and sweet of hopes that 
 
 die, 
 
 And in great silence heard of death and life the call, 
 And when myself I cried I heard my great Lord 
 cry. 
 
 48
 
 O, let us not love each the other! 
 
 O, let us each the other not forgive. 
 O, let us dear, 
 
 Our vows and promises not believe ! 
 
 O, let us not bless each the other 
 
 It is so hard then to forget. 
 And let us dream 
 
 That each the other never met. 
 
 Let us not long each for the other! 
 
 And think that I was never born! 
 And, crying 111 say: 
 
 "Not you but a dream my is forlorn. 
 
 O, let us not love each the other! 
 
 Let us try each the other hate. 
 Maybe more kind 
 
 Will be to us our cruel fate. 
 
 Word, words and words again. 
 
 so many words I said, 
 And still my heart is heavy 
 
 With words that never said. 
 
 I ll break and tear my heart 
 And then no heart I ll have. 
 
 And then words that are burdens 
 Again I wouldn t have. 
 
 49
 
 Come will a day so I dream, 
 
 Thai the locks that keep me behind gray wall 
 
 broken will be, 
 And will be free to wander in field and forest, and 
 
 mountain. 
 
 And then will I say to my friend: 
 "Then," I dream, "I will have a friend." 
 What is the name of the heavy branched tree? 
 And the name of the deep-rooted one? 
 And what is the name of the bird that sings? 
 And what is the name of the bird that rumps? 
 And what is the name of that red flower? 
 And what is the name of that white flower? 
 And my friend will wonder and will say: 
 "You are a poet and you don t know the name of 
 
 a tree and flower. 
 You are a singer 
 
 And you don t know the name of a bird. 
 Tell me what inspired you? 
 I will seek an answer in silence 
 And I will think maybe I was inspired 
 By everything that to know I missed, 
 By the things that I longed to see and could not, 
 By the things that I longed to hear and did not, 
 By the things that I could not gain and approach. 
 And I will long to tell this my friend, 
 But I will fear that will be misunderstood 
 And I will be silent and think, think of a strange 
 
 fate." 
 
 50
 
 He worshipped her as a meek slave 
 And she was like a naughty queen. 
 
 hers a kind word made happy him, 
 But seldom a kind word could win. 
 
 And for love of another one 
 
 She left him with the pain and sting. 
 But later back she came disgraced 
 
 A poor humble slave and found a king. 
 
 Lord, the sunshine I of you demand 
 
 I am deprived by fate! 
 And the smiles I didn t get 
 O, Lord, I await ! 
 
 I my holy birthright must demand 
 Tis holier than your will. 
 
 Till in my soul death 
 
 Peace and rest will instill. 
 
 Little dear, you looked at me 
 
 And I know why. 
 Because in your young heart 
 
 Now there lives a little spy. 
 
 And he spies days, days long, 
 
 And he spies night; 
 And he seeks, seeks for you 
 
 Admiring knights. 
 
 51
 
 If you re a poet, then don t say: 
 
 "No beauty is in your life. 
 And that waste every day 
 
 In grudging misery and strife." 
 
 God does not make of gold pure gold. 
 
 And of Suns does not He make suns. 
 Earth to give light is by him told, 
 
 And makes to sparkle and twinkle hard stones. 
 
 I pity all those that are as I 
 
 And that with souls as my were born ! 
 Day every for themselves must cry 
 
 And every day the world must mourn. 
 
 Friends of the world and all alone 
 When, when can I or they find rest. 
 
 God let me the only one 
 
 O Lord, Lord, let me be the last. 
 
 Maybe in the year when the world will die 
 
 As never beautiful will be spring. 
 And gloriously rise the sun will high, 
 
 As never flowers blossom and birds sing. 
 And the world in that year will die 
 
 And in the gloomy day when come will my death, 
 I ll see a happy smiling happy rumping child 
 
 That ll call me rump and dance, and peeved ll get, 
 That wouldn t share heartily all its pranks wild, 
 
 And this ll be the day of my death. 
 
 52
 
 The yellow leaves on the trees whisper, whisper, 
 
 whisper: 
 "Our days are gone, our life is past. We fall and 
 
 fall. 
 
 And there is no other world for us that is to come, 
 And never back to life and youth will hear the 
 Lord s call." 
 
 O, poor and dying, brooding leaves, don t cry, don t 
 cry! 
 
 O, not alone in the world gloomy are that fall 
 O ! withering s my face and a girl sad I know 
 
 That dies as you do with a brooding withered soul. 
 
 God, are you sometimes a man? 
 
 And the truth as men to see you dare, 
 Boldly as a man admit when wrong, 
 
 s your desire as men s is to be fair. 
 
 Or handicapped you are 
 
 By your will that s powerful and great, 
 Or learned only to command 
 
 And from nothing misery create. 
 
 53
 
 My known and unknown brother friend, 
 God shall from the great misery 
 Save you of being right in the world! 
 O, I know what it is It was my fate 
 Sad to be often right in the world. 
 My known and unknown sister friend, 
 I bless you with the greatest blessing 
 I know that never shall attain 
 The state of sainthood. O, I know 
 What it is. It was my sad fate 
 Sometimes to be a saint. 
 
 Covered with brambles factory walls 
 Strangers make to feel at ease, 
 And their love for graceful please. 
 But behind the brambled green walls 
 Broken hearts are and broken souls. 
 Factories brambled me don t deceive. 
 They are evil in a new style, 
 It is the devil s pleasing smile. 
 They can happy fools deceive 
 But I never will them believe. 
 
 54
 
 Deny it, if you only can, 
 
 That our fear of the world and fate 
 Is the fear of little helpless beast 
 
 Of monsters great. 
 
 Deny it, if you only can, 
 
 That pray in sorrow and despair, 
 When challenge would and scoff and curse, 
 
 If we would dare. 
 
 A little girl kneeled before a cross 
 
 To worship and to pray, 
 To plead and beg for many things, 
 
 In a wise childish way. 
 
 She whispered: "Father Lord, give me 
 
 The bitterness of things 
 That are as honey mellow sweet, 
 And feel the joy of stings." 
 
 "O let me hear and see," she said, 
 
 "A serpent s cheerful joy 
 And let me know when a little lark 
 
 The world wants to destroy." 
 
 55
 
 Lord, send me suffering of soul 
 Try me with misery, O Lord! 
 But as men justify my pains, 
 O Lord, Lord justify my sorrows! 
 
 It isn t the woes that I fear, 
 Not they my heart break, but the thoughts 
 And doubts of their strange mystery, 
 They cry of the baffled soul why, why? 
 
 Out of the way I seek a way 
 
 Because was told: "Be brave, be bold, 
 And storm face, and face blizzard cold, 
 
 And find for men a way." 
 
 Far from the world brood for the world, 
 Depths of its pains my soul attains 
 Because in my heart and my veins 
 
 Runs the blood of the world. 
 
 O yesterday I thought, 
 I love your youthful eyes 
 
 But when we love the stars 
 We love the blue, blue, skies. 
 
 O yesterday I thought, 
 That smiling my heart win. 
 
 But, when the flowers love, 
 We love the valley green. 
 
 56
 
 I wouldn t dare to face my Lord, 
 
 If wouldn t win. 
 O, this would be my greatest shame, 
 
 My greatest sin. 
 
 Before he thought of all the world 
 
 He thought of me. 
 And, if with bowed head back would come, 
 
 How pained would be. 
 
 And in his hopes and dreams deceived 
 
 My Lord would cry. 
 And million times me recreate 
 
 Again would try. 
 
 And of this great pain and struggle 
 
 My Lord must save 
 A million times on me for him 
 
 Enoughs to slave. 
 
 God wanted to create a wonder great 
 
 Of fire and he created light and stars, and suns. 
 God wanted to create a wonder great 
 
 Of water and lakes, He made to fall on rocks and 
 stones. 
 
 God wanted to create a wonder great 
 
 Of colors subtle and he told to grow grass and 
 
 tree. 
 God wanted to create a wonder great 
 
 Of flesh and bones and he created men and me. 
 
 57
 
 I awoke at night and in my sleepy mind 
 Thought I am yet a little helpless child, 
 
 That awoke and my dear mother didn t find, 
 And I wanted to cry loud and wild. 
 
 But to think regained my whole power I 
 
 And I did not cry. 
 No, I cried, cried but no one around could hear, 
 
 As a little child s soul, my poor soul cried. 
 
 But you wouldn t see then my a bitter tear 
 Every sigh of mine in my heart died. 
 
 O, as a child I could not cry then, 
 So cried as a man. 
 
 When the young are called in battlefield, 
 
 To murder and to kill, 
 We as our sisters and -our mothers 
 
 This horror great can t feel. 
 
 If on the battlefield would be shed, 
 The warm blood of girls young, 
 
 If rot on mountain sides they would 
 Unburied for days long. 
 
 Then, then maybe it would be men 
 
 That would the horror feel 
 Of sending mothers, sisters, wives 
 
 To murder and to kill. 
 
 58
 
 When twilight dawns, 
 
 The world is sad; 
 And shadows speak 
 
 Of all the dead. 
 
 And man, poor man, 
 Is a helpless beast, 
 
 And man s deep pain 
 s in a bird s breast. 
 
 And stars twinkle, twinkle, 
 In thoughtful fear, 
 
 Though to the Lord 
 They are so near. 
 
 When twilight dawns, 
 Your poor soul cries; 
 
 And something feel 
 In your heart dies. 
 
 59
 
 Another book of Poems, "Frag 
 ments of a Life," by the same 
 author, is in preparation and soon 
 will be published.
 
 
 
 
 

 
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