And I saw the quick stream of men
Pouring ceaselessly,
Filled with eager faces,
A torrent of desire.
I called to them,
‘Where do you go? What do you see?’
A thousand voices called to me.
A thousand fingers pointed.
‘Look! look! There!’
I know not of it.
But, lo! In the far sky shone a radiance
Ineffable, divine —
A vision painted upon a pall;
And sometimes it was,
And sometimes it was not.
I hesitated.
Then from the stream
Came roaring voices,
Impatient:
‘Look! look! There!’
So again I saw,
And leaped, unhesitant,
And struggled and fumed
With outspread clutching fingers.
The hard hills tore my flesh;
The ways bit my feet.
At last I looked again.
No radiance in the far sky,
Ineffable, divine;
No vision painted upon a pall;
And always my eyes ached for the light.
Then I cried in despair,
‘I see nothing! Oh, where do I go?’
The torrent turned again its faces:
‘Look! look! There!’
And at the blindness of my spirit
They screamed,
‘Fool! fool! fool!’