Endurance

“To an ungrateful woman...”

You have toyed with the husks and let the truths go by,
and never grasped the ends of things.
Gently — what wealth is there in heaping up money,
in raising houses and palaces?
The builder of the Pyramids built them to last:
he died, and the digger of graves came off the winner.
Gently — the nights will let no building stand
that is not built of thought and light.
Thrones shall come crashing down upon their masters,
and every glory of vanity shall pass away.
Tomorrow, Layla, every house shall crumble
save one delicate house made of feeling.
Come, then, and dwell in an exquisite meaning
that lives on despite the ravages of the ages.