What is our innocence,

　　what is our guilt? All are

　　naked, none is safe. And whence

　　is courage: the unanswered question,

　　the resolute doubt, --

　　dumbly calling, deafly listening--that

　　in misfortune, even death,

　　encourages others

　　and in its defeat, stirs

　　the soul to be strong? He

　　sees deep and is glad, who

　　accedes to mortality

　　and in his imprisonment rises

　　upon himself as

　　the sea in a chasm, struggling to be

　　free and unable to be,

　　in its surrendering

　　finds its continuing.

　　So he who strongly feels,

　　behaves. The very bird,

　　grown taller as he sings, steels

　　his form straight up. Though he is captive,

　　his mighty singing

　　says, satisfaction is a lowly

　　thing, how pure a thing is joy.

　　This is mortality,

　　this is eternity.

　　What is our innocence,

　　what is our guilt? All are

　　naked, none is safe. And whence

　　is courage: the unanswered question,

　　the resolute doubt, --

　　dumbly calling, deafly listening--that

　　in misfortune, even death,

　　encourages others

　　and in its defeat, stirs

　　the soul to be strong? He

　　sees deep and is glad, who

　　accedes to mortality

　　and in his imprisonment rises

　　upon himself as

　　the sea in a chasm, struggling to be

　　free and unable to be,

　　in its surrendering

　　finds its continuing.

　　So he who strongly feels,

　　behaves. The very bird,

　　grown taller as he sings, steels

　　his form straight up. Though he is captive,

　　his mighty singing

　　says, satisfaction is a lowly

　　thing, how pure a thing is joy.

　　This is mortality,

　　this is eternity.

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