Beruflich Dokumente
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Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans This monstrous thing distorted and soul-
quenched?
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
The emptiness of ages in his face,
Touch it again with immortality;
And on his back the burden of the world.
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
Rebuild in it the music and the dream,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes.
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
To feel the passion of Eternity? When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the
world.
Is this the Dream He dreamed who shaped the
suns After the silence of the centuries?