A Sage’s Restraint
In that spoof, let wakeful eyes attend,
The sly concealed to serve their secret will;
So wise compeers will learn and not pretend
Shunning the loins’ demands pressing them still.
Scratchy urges fade, if ignored with the mind,
Till spring returns with tender buds soft and pure;
Then they shall till the fields, not more confined,
Escaping plights which insane minds procure.
Then will it be you whose veins fret with grief,
Who bawls for loss, bitter and snarling in pain,
Who squandered wealth on coquettes, vainly brief,
Then howls in rue as though beset by bane
So try, sketch a life with utter restraint,
Debasing dignity is but constraint.
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