THE ADVENT OF THE SUPERMAN
O Quiet is the wind yet something stirs
Between our world and heaven's starry skies
A spirit, shall I say, that knows a form
Beyond all that which beauty can describe;
A whole expanse of night pervades my sight
Disturbing naught that seeks of silent rest,
And yet withal I feel a wondrous thing
Upon the vision of unopen?d eyes
That now proclaims the portent of our fate:
The needs of life have made of us a span
And we shall from our ashes, phoenix-like,
Cry, "Hail the advent of the superman."
When I bestow beneficence upon man, He distances himself from me. When I heap calamities on his head, He draws nigh.
Ode to Unchastity
Unchaste girls are not unchased, But unchased girls are chaste; The unchased have no time to waste, For they've faced to their distaste If they don't make haste to become unchaste, They'll remain unchased and waste.