The Poet and the Crowd
The poet strummed a soulful lyre
And nonchalantly sang along,
But as he sang, cold looks and ire
Of those who never will inspire
Emitted from a thoughtless throng.
The obtuse mob began to natter:
“Why does he have to sing so loud?
He hurts our ears with all this clatter,
What goal has he for us, the crowd?
Why does he sing? What is he teaching?
He tortures hearts with what he's preaching,
Who is this fiend that makes a fuss?
Like blowing wind, his song flows freely,
But like the wind, is fruitless, really:
What use is such a song to us?”
Poet:
Be still, you crass and thoughtless mob,
Wage slaves who fret and hate your job!
Obnoxiously you feign displeasure.
You're worms of earth, not sons of heaven!
You value not the bread, but leaven;
Apollo's sculpted bust you treasure,
But love its weight, not fortitude.
Is not your god the marble merely,
Just as you hold a pot so dearly
Because it simply cooks your food?
Crowd:
No, wait, if you are heav’n-selected
Then put your gift as God's elected
To use for us, and make us whole:
Correct your vulgar brother's soul.
We know we're sneaky and ungrateful,
Malicious, shameless, craven, hateful;
Our eunuch hearts are cold and bleak,
We're slandering, foolish knaves, and weak;
Flawed evil nests within to cage us.
But lovingly you can impart
Your lessons worthy and courageous,
And we shall listen if you start.
Poet:
Away from me! Such stupid thinking
Is odious to a peaceful bard!
Just turn to stone, debauchers stinking,
No lyre could wake a soul so hard.
As vile to spirit as a coffin,
You've used your axe and whip so often,
You’d rather pass a poison chalice
With all your foolishness and malice;—
Away, enough, you mindless toadies!
From hometown walks and noisy roadways
You’ve swept up trash — a useful chore —
But have you seen a priest forsaking
His altar, rites, and sermon-making
To grab your broom and sweep a floor?
Poets aren’t born for deeds domestic,
To follow greed or battle's fire,
We're born to author sounds majestic,
To nourish prayers, and to inspire.