But What Avails It To Me

But What Avails It To Me Whose Limbs Are Tied I’m The Poet Who Had Resumed The Steep Ascent The Road Ascended Straight Between The Rocks In Such A Fashion That My Body Screened The Rays Issued Forth From The Setting Sun And Said Come on Behold the fire Now Touches The High Meridian I Am One Who Goes Below From Ring To Ring With This Still Living Man If I Were Only Lighter By Enough To Move An Inch Within A Hundred Years Yet In That Space I Saw The Stars Shine Forth Mars More Brilliantly Than Usual And Larger On The Shore The Foot Of Night Is Treading On Morocco