I have fetched the tears up out of the little wells,
Scooped them up with small, iron words,
Dripping over the runnels.
The harsh, cold wind of my words drove on, and still
I watched the tears on the guilty cheek of the men
Glitter and spill.
Close your eyes and see what's behind you
Let your pain not guide you to nothing
Make your sacrifice for the living
Step outside the fire that burns you
Cringing Pity, and Love, white-handed, came
Hovering about the Judgment which stood in my eyes,
Whirling a flame.
Like a flower that the frost has hugged and let go,
My head is heavy, and my heart beats slowly
My strength is shed.
The tears are dry, and the cheeks' young fruits are fresh
With laughter, and clear the exonerated eyes, since pain
Beat through the flesh.
The Angel of Judgment has departed again to the Nearness.
Desolate I am as a church whose lights are put out.
And night enters in dreariness.
Close your eyes and see what's behind you
Let your pain not guide you to nothing
Make your sacrifice for the living
Step outside the fire that burns you
The fire rose up in the bush and blazed apace,
The thorn-leaves crackled and twisted in anguish;
Then God left the place.
Like a flower that the frost has hugged and let go,
My head is heavy, and my heart beats slowly,
My strength is shed.
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