Brahma...

[fajrdrako]

It's the third stanza that makes this one for me.

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.

Comments

[filkferengi]

It was Alcott who turned me on to Emerson [she used to babysit his kids]. I haven't read much by him, but enjoyed what I have, especially the transparent eyeball:

http://library.thinkquest.org/3721/poems/famous/emerson.html

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

I hadn't read that before - I like it. "I am nothing; I see all." Excellent!

[filkferengi]

It was easy to feel that way, especially during adolescence.

[fajrdrako.livejournal.com]

And depending on temperament, at other times.