On a Grey Thread/Oversoul
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Oversoul
My laughter rings in the highest mountains,
My mockery echoes vividly over the peaks,
My laughter and my mockery dance lightly
together
Like derisive imps . . . But my soul never
speaks.
My mockery echoes vividly over the peaks,
My laughter and my mockery dance lightly
together
Like derisive imps . . . But my soul never
speaks.
My wisdom sits on a promontory
And remotely overwatches the world;
My pain stays forever in that cave
Where the ragged ends of life come unfurled.
And remotely overwatches the world;
My pain stays forever in that cave
Where the ragged ends of life come unfurled.
My love cuts downward between mountains
Like a torrential cataract, to the deeps,
For love, like life, is a down-going.
But my soul is like a thing that sleeps.
Like a torrential cataract, to the deeps,
For love, like life, is a down-going.
But my soul is like a thing that sleeps.
It knows the remorseless depths,
The thinnest ether of the farthest height;
There are no lights or darknesses for its
discovering,
It has crawled on the earth and it knows
the joy of flight.
The thinnest ether of the farthest height;
There are no lights or darknesses for its
discovering,
It has crawled on the earth and it knows
the joy of flight.
It is speechless because it knows all speeches,
Future and present and what has gone before.
It waits sphinxlike, and I myself
Cannot guess what it is waiting for.
Future and present and what has gone before.
It waits sphinxlike, and I myself
Cannot guess what it is waiting for.