|Every atom pants for glory: greed|
Of self-fruition earth’s whole creed!
|Life that thirsts for no flowering—death:|
Self-creation—a godlike deed;
|Through self the mustard-seed becomes|
A hill: without, the hill a seed.
|The stars wander and do not meet,|
To all things severance is decreed;
|Pale is the moon of night’s last hour|
No whispered things of friendship speed.
|Your heart is your lamp;|
Own self is all the light you need;
|You are this world’s sole truth, all else|
Illusion such as sorceries breed.
|—These desert thorns prick many a doubt:|
Do not complain if bare feet bleed.
Translated by: V.G. Kiernan