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
shadow and sunlight are the same
the vanquished 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
I am the doubter and the doubt
and I the hymn the Brahman sings
Strong gods pine for my abode
and pine in vain the sacred seven
but thou meek lover of the good
find me and turn thy back on heaven.
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