"
The day’s not long enough for my idle mean-
dering
And the night too short for my sprawling in
beds.
What is the world’s dazzle set against the thirst
of an eye?
And what barrier the dark of the world against
my blazing heart?
My path is too short for the uncertainty of my
goal.
For my wild tenacity, the wind is too slothful
and sleepy.
What is the world compared with the sacrificial
altar toward which I lead myself?
And what’s eternity compared with my dying
Now?
All that I see, myself, is scanty compared with
my lack of desire;
And all earth’s arid ground is skimpy for my
heel.
What is female flesh set against my flaming
desire?
And flaming desire compared with my idleness?
"
Perets Markish