OF THE AUGUST
"Still is the bottom of my sea. Who could know that it hideth jesting monsters !
Unshakable is my depth, but it shineth from swim- ming riddles and laughters.
An august one I saw to-day, a solemn one, a peni- tent of spirit. Oh, how laughed my soul at his ugli- ness!
With his breast raised and like those who draw in their breath thus he stood there, the august one, and silent;
Covered with ugly truths, the prey of his hunting, and rich with torn clothes ; many thorns also hung on him, but I saw no rose.
Not yet had he learnt laughter and beauty. Frown- ing this hunter came back from the forest of percep- tion.
He returned from the struggle with wild beasts ; but out of his seriousness a wild beast looketh one not overcome !
Like a tiger still standeth he there, about to jump ; but I care not for these strained souls ; my taste hath no favour for all these reserved ones.
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