Who is the wisest of men?
Does he gaze at the stars or ponder the earth,
Reflect upon laughter and study our mirth?
Does he listen to sadness and notice our tears?
Does he grow wise with age, or age with the years?

Who is the wisest of men?
Does he seek to examine man’s rise from the clay,
Subject to inquiry the workings of day?
Is he familiar with science, attendant on art,
At home with the ancients, an expert on Sartre?

Who is the wisest of men?
Does he spend him time learning, maturing in thought,
Reaching for knowledge to him dearly sought?
Or should he stop and consider the God up above?
The wise man is he who learns how to love.