I am only a visitor here, unqualified to speak Of the incessant sufferings of men of God Who may not go beyond the compassing wire To see a reed shaken with the wind
For they sometimes are wind-struck reeds themselves Planted for a time in this desert of penance But they are men, and do not easily shake - When the bitter wind blows they stand up straight
They do not raise their fists against the wind But rather their hearts in manly strength and faith