Upon the threshing-floor of life I burn
Beside the Winnower a word to learn;
And only this: Man's of the soil and sun,
And to the soil and sun he shall return.
And like a spider's house or sparrow's nest,
The Sultan's palace, though upon the crest
Of glory's mountain, soon or late must go:
Ay, all abodes to ruin are addrest.
So, too, the creeds of Man: the one prevails
Until the other comes; and this one fails
When that one triumphs; ay, the lonesome world
Will always want the latest fairy-tales.
Seek not the Tavern of Belief, my friend,
Until the Sakis there their morals mend;
A lie imbibed a thousand lies will breed,
And thou'lt become a Saki in the end.
Now, mosques and churches - even a Kaaba Stone,
Korans and Bibles - even a martyr's bone,-
All these and more my heart can tolerate,
For my religion's love, and love alone.