XXX

I have seemed often feeble and useless to myself,

And many times I have wished that the tedium of my life

Lay at last dissolved in the cold acid of death:

Yet I have not forgotten

The sparkling of waters in the sunlight,

The sound of a woman's voice,

Gliding dancers,

Chanting worshippers,

A child crying,

The wind amid the hills.

These I can remember,

And I think they are more of me

Than the wrinkles on my face and the hungry ache at my heart.