Brahma
IF the red slayer think he slays
Or if the slain think he is slain
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep and pass and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near; 5
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanished gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.
They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly I am the wings; 10
I am the doubter and the doubt
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
The strong gods pine for my abode
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou meek lover of the good! 15
Find me and turn thy back on heaven.