The Sibyl

To tread the inner sanctums

Of man’s soul

Is to be lost in the vapor

Of a fast-dissolving dream.

To think that you can touch a human face

Is to take part in the greatest of hoaxes.

For when the smoke dissipates,

You will find yourself suspended

Like the sibyll in the jar,

And Earth and men

That seemed so near

Will lay a hundred miles below.

Oh try to break the glass.

Try to leave your cage!

For God has placed you in it

Till you reach your dying age.

You’ll see the people laughing ,

And dancing two by two,

But they are only living

In that fog that fooled you.

You cannot reach the Earth.

You will not touch a soul.

And when the laughing phantoms

Ask, oblivious to all,

“What is it that you want,

You gloomy soul?"

You’ll say: “apothanein thelo.”