The Song of Time

Sun and stars in my bosom I hold; By me, who am nothing, thou art ensouled.

In light and in darkness, in city and wold, I am pain, I am balm, I am life manifold. Destroyer and Quickener from of old.

Genghis, Taimur—specks of my dust they came, And Europe’s turmoil is a spark of flame.

Man and his world I fashion and frame, Blood of his heart my spring flowers claim. Hell fire and Paradise I, be it told.

I rest still, I move—wondrous sight for thine eyes! In the glass of Today see Tomorrow arise,

See a thousand fair worlds where my thought deep lies, See a thousand swift stars, a thousand blue skies! Man’s garment am I, God I enfold;

Fate is my spell, freewill is thy chant. O lover of Layla, thy frenzy I haunt;

As the spirit pure, I transcend thy vaunt. Thou and I are each other’s innermost want; Thou showest me forth, hid’st me too in thy mould.

Thou my journey’s end, thou my harvestgrain, The Assembly’s flow and the music’s strain.

O wanderer, home to thy heart again! Behold in a cup the shoreless main! From thy lofty wave my ocean rolled.