well up from the depths of conscience —
and did I come back with anything to show?
No, by the truth of it all.
•
I built my ship with my own hands
and resolved to sail far away,
far from anything, and from any human being,
that I might find rest after toil...
My ship was not ornamented,
for my candid soul
and my open heart
forbid me to disguise things;
nor was it a ship of pomp and vainglory,
for peacocks are birds with no minds to hold them back from strutting...
Nor was it big like Noah's ark,
for ambition does not lie in such glittering shows,
but in a man's knowing what it is in his power to know,
that he may cultivate himself and cultivate others, profiting and giving profit.
My ship had no horn to blow when it set sail
and blow when it came to anchor...
for din deafens my ears,
and noise
has done its shameful work upon the nerves,
and people worship drumming and piping,
and in that I have no business with people, in little or in much.
So no one noticed my singular ship;
and when I resolved on the voyage,
the ship spread its white sails
and glided off, light and swift, like a gentle butterfly.
But a hidden call began pleading with me in the core of my heart:
"For God's sake, come back. We cannot do without you, and no one in this life can fill the emptiness you leave."
And I stared at the shore, and behold, millions of children crying out imploringly, together with my own children:
Mother... Mother...
And so I shattered my beloved little ship with my own hands...
and ran back to them,
my voice grown hoarse from the choking of tears.
But was I right in what I did??
Did I bring back with me any peace of mind?
Did I gather up what of my life was scattered in vain behind the shining mirage...??
No, by the truth of it all.
•
Then life does not deserve from us this galling reproach,
for whether we act — or do not act — to life it is all one.
