Life is the richest feast
Life is the richest feast for man here born
with all the richest viands served for sense;
the sky so lazulite studded with gems,
the sun for day shedding congenial light,
the moon illuming soft this lovely vale,
the mountains blue, the verdant hills, the green,
the finest works of nature’s arts of colour,
the kaleidoscopic fancy and the mind of men,
society, friendship, work, philosophy
and all the fine immortal arts and poetry.
But when does Death with grim jaws stare at you,
your mind, your heart, your being sensitive,
all conflagrate with a contrary feeling,
as burning and as full of torture as you have
lived rich, intense in just the same proportion;
contrarily then all things burn, you saw, you realized
your ideal still never attained; your soul,
a fish alive in a boiling cauldron, and the sky
with its wide dome kissing the horizon
becomes for you a prison roof; and you
find that this world is all poison.
God is the only consolation, your last stay.