The Proverb Speaks.
Harsh and gentle, fine and mean,
Quite rare and common, dirty and clean,
The fools' and the sages' go-between:
All this I will be, this have been,
Dove and serpent and swine, I ween!
To a Lover of Light.
That eye and sense be not fordone
E'en in the shade pursue the sun!
To him who is a dancer nice.
The Brave Man.
A feud that knows not flaw nor break,
Rather then patched-up friendship, take.
Rust's needed: keenness will not satisfy!
"He is too young!" the rabble loves to cry.
"How shall I reach the top?" No time
For thus reflecting! Start to climb!