From the Inspiration of Summer

In vain does man try to search for love
in the markets of the world or at the ends of the earth,
for he is then like a harvester of crops
who asks for the sickle while it is in his hand,
or like a poor youth
who begs for help while strength lies in his arm,
because love — if man but knew —
is nowhere but within the folds of his ribs...

A kind word may guide the straying heart,
and a gentle effort may soften the hardened soul,
or a beautiful song...
But in vain, in vain does man look for peace
while over his eyes lies a film of envy,
or listen for the cries of mercy
surging with every beat of his heart,
while in his ears is a constant ringing
that turns mercy into selfishness,
and kindness and help into savagery and tyranny.

The time has come for man to spread out his soul
beneath the light of the sun of true life,
and strip from it a harmful selfishness,
that he may be happy in love, and rest secure in peace,
and take hope in the powers joined together toward the good,
crying out in his depths:
As the rain returns to the barren land and waters it,
and loads the vine with clusters after the water of life
in it had all but dried away,
so has its peace returned to my soul,
and to my heart its love and its happiness...