TO BE A MAN
(From the French of Charles Vildrac)
Watch a kitten at play,
A running fountain,
A man splitting wood;
Watch, when you like, with the children . . .
Lean on the bridge-rail,
Watch with the loafers
The little feverish tug
Leading its helpless line of long barges,
Desperately pulling at its leash and dragging
Its row of blind beggars.
If there's a small child in your path
Finding his fun in the mud,
Dirtying his hands and his cheeks
And talking baby talk,
Don't turn aside and murmur:
"Let’s leave him to the women,"
But pick the child up without making him cry
And know how to talk to him like a story-teller and gently,
As though you were a good old grandfather—
While you wipe his little face and his hands.
And if you happen, at night in a dark street,
On a poor old drunken man
Whom a huge policeman stands against a wall
For the beastly need
Of badgering with blows,
O don't say, as your fear would have you:
"Let's leave him to his kind!"—
Strike out with your fists!
If you chance to be going the same way
With a man from the lumber-yards
And you chat as you walk side by side,
