XIII - Stephen Crane

IF THERE IS A WITNESS TO MY LITTLE LIFE,

TO MY TINY THROES AND STRUGGLES,

HE SEES A FOOL ;

AND IT IS NOT FINE FOR GODS TO MENACE

       FOOLS.

"A youth in apparel that glittered" - Stephen Crane

A youth in apparel that glittered

Went to walk in a grim forest.

There he met an assassin

Attired all in garb of old days;

He, scowling through the thickets,

And dagger poised quivering,

Rushed upon the youth.

"Sir," said this latter,

"I am enchanted, believe me,

To die, thus,

In this medieval fashion,

According to the best legends;

Ah, what joy!"

Then took he the wound, smiling,

And died, content.

“A man feared that he might find an assassin” - Stephen Crane

A man feared that he might find an assassin;

Another that he might find a victim.

One was more wise than the other.

"In the desert" - Stephen Crane

In the desert

I saw a creature, naked, bestial,

Who, squatting upon the ground,

Held his heart in his hands,

And ate of it.

I said: “Is it good, friend?”

“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it

Because it is bitter,

And because it is my heart.”

""It was wrong to do this," said the angel." - Stephen Crane

“It was wrong to do this,” said the angel.

“You should live like a flower,

Holding malice like a puppy,

Waging war like a lambkin.”

“Not so,” quoth the man

Who had no fear of spirits;

“It is only wrong for angels

Who can live like the flowers,

Holding malice like the puppies,

Waging war like the lambkins.”

"If I should cast off this tattered coat," - Stephen Crane

If I should cast off this tattered coat,

And go free into the mighty sky;

If I should find nothing there

But a vast blue,

Echoless, ignorant,—

What then?

"A man saw a ball of gold in the sky;" - Stephen Crane

A man saw a ball of gold in the sky;

He climbed for it,

And eventually he achieved it—

It was clay.

Now this is the strange part:

When the man went to the earth

And looked again,

Lo, there was the ball of gold.

Now this is the strange part:

It was a ball of gold.

Aye, by the heavens, it was a ball of gold.

"Places among the stars," - Stephen Crane

Places among the stars,

Soft gardens near the sun,

Keep your distant beauty;

Shed no beams upon my weak heart.

Since she is here

In a place of blackness,

Not your golden days

Nor your silver nights

Can call me to you.

Since she is here

In a place of blackness,

Here I stay and wait.