Edgar Lee Masters (Эдгар Ли Мастерс)
Jonathan Swift Somers
After you have enriched your soul To the highest point, With books, thought, suffering, the understanding of many personalities, The power to interpret glances, silences, The pauses in momentous transformations, The genius of divination and prophecy; So that you feel able at times to hold the world In the hollow of your hand; Then, if, by the crowding of so many powers Into the compass of your soul, Your soul takes fire, And in the conflagration of your soul The evil of the world is lighted up and made clear -- Be thankful if in that hour of supreme vision Life does not fiddle.
Edgar Lee Masters’s other poems:
883