O my soul, once you lay
Nude and innocent in the womb of the Eternal.
What dreams had you then?
       What hopes, what urges ?
Were there star-lit expanses, galaxied blues,
       Constellated depths after depths ?
Or a rose-gold sun hanging on the rim of infinite horizons ?
Or a radiant smile swaying the throb of Timelessness' heart?

It stands today, the self-same soul
       In daylight's rude broadness,
Amidst the stone-hard reals,
       In the externals and the crusts,
Under noon-tide's blazing eye...
Oh, no longer the sweet simple innocence of yore :
The child has grown and now its limbs are hewn
       Out of a marble-consciousness !

The dream has become the iron will,
The secret urge the body's urgent gesture:
A human being that was has yielded to the godhead's devouring embrace,
The Divine is set in human limbs.