Observe the kind of mind that chases fame
A ship cannot sustain on one small sail
Self-serving man survives a little while
Before a sea of arrogance subsumes him
Envy may outlive all happiness
Of those whom you believe are held above you
But court dissatisfaction with your life
Many form of this well-paid professions –
Cynical psychologists who claim
‘Everything is what you think it is’
Carving up the words of Epictetus
To suit their busy bromides
Reducing to banality
His vision in the unity of all things
The world is filled with Nature’s refugees
In exile from the heart as from the soul
Yet dedicate a little time
To those few things you need
For independent dignity
Considering the cosmos
A single living being
Your life is but a moment
Do not set your happiness to waver
On flattery or censure from some other –
Only seek the company of those
With whom your capabilities expand
This narrow ledge we walk some call ‘alive’
Enticed by promises of pleasure
Constrained by alternating fears of pain –
How frail and how corruptible
Whose judgements and opinions
Confer renown on a harried rock?
One who sets his sights on fame
And while obscure endures the dream
Of posthumous recognition –
The praise of all the world
Means nothing to the dead
The living who remember him
One by one resume oblivion
Memory and fame are this –
A rock-pool between tides
While ceaselessly the river meets the sea
.
Bernard Saint
Illustration: Claire Palmer
.