ONCE PASSING THE
ZUIDER ZEE
Kindling wood. An oasis of little men. A
pile of flowers cast away. Don't tell me
anything I never knew before - these
are catcalls I hear; the frown of the loser,
the arched eyebrow of a distant King.
-
To all those men who play cards, I say,
'play on! Eat your cigars and finger those
cards. Leave nothing behind but ash for
the mice. This is a miserable Paradise,
yet a Paradise nonetheless - and you
never get a second chance at that.
Malingerers always remain idle.
At heart, anyway. Look up, once,
as I pass. Just say something,
and I'll keep moving on.'
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