Yesterday, at the crossroads, I met an old man who was making his way to the city below.
He was a solitary poet who had become a merchant after many years.
He spoke these words to me:
Only a few days ago did my eyes receive sight.
I was blind and intoxicated by visions of poetry and beauty.
But now I see that these things were mere dreams built upon the passing affections of youth
to which I have clung all of my days.
Thus spoke the merchant as he went away laughing.
A moment later, another man approached me, one of old age also.
He was headed to the mountain above.
He had been a merchant who had become a poet and a hermit.
And with a strange voice he spoke to me:
My son, the world is a passing whim.
All my days were invested much in the world but I was blind
and could not see the divine visions and could not hear the eternal melodies.
Now my soul has awakened and I am no longer a foolish youth.
And he too went away laughing.
After hearing these two men, I became filled with sorrow.
For I was in my prime.
Sadness filled my heart and I sat weeping by the roadside.
And I wept for a long while.
Then, through my veil of tears, I saw a beautiful Maiden who was called Life.
She danced before me in rhythmic motion.
I followed Her into wide open spaces, into the forests and the plains,
near the oceans and the rivers.
But I kept far from the industrious city and from the hermits' caves.
We danced, Life and I, and ran through the fields.
And I have been running, laughing, and dancing ever since.
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