Taking a bit of a break tonight. Been a rough day.
There aren't many poems I have memorized, but this is one of them. I am not certain whether I memorized it because I was particularly fond of it, or if I am particularly fond of it because I memorized it.
BRAHMA
By Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882)
If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near,
Shadow and sunlight are the same,
The vanished gods to me appear,
And one to me are shame and fame.
They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.
1.) As you can see, it isn't for nothing that we remember Emerson for his essays instead of his poems. But I still like this one.
2.) I suspect Emerson wrote Brahma when he actually meant Brahman.
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