*** |
(1883 - 1931) |
|
On
Children
|
And
a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, |
Speak
to us of Children. |
And
he said: |
Your
children are not your children. |
They
are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. |
They
come through you but not from you, |
And
though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
|
You
may give them your love but not your thoughts, |
for
they have their own thoughts. |
You
may house their bodies but not their souls, |
for
their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, |
which
you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. |
You
may strive to be like them, |
but
seek not to make them like you. |
For
life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. |
You
are the bows from which your children |
as
living arrows are sent forth. |
The
Archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, |
and
He bends you with His might |
that
His arrows may go swift and far. |
Let
your bending in the Archer’s hand be for gladness; |
for
even as He loves the arrow that flies, |
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
|
|