No Peace

A curse is on man, the curse of his hungers;

There is no peace for man, no peace, no rest

Ever on earth because of the gnawing hungers

Forever, forever contending in his breast.

Happy a man who could watch without sighing

The frail brief flowering of the cherry tree;

Happy the heart that could lie still as a pool

Before beauty and beauty's unsolved ecstasy.

Man and his hungers build the world over

Nearer, nearer to their heart's desire. . . .

(Nearer? Nearer? Never any nearer:

Man and his hungers change like fire.)

He builds and destroys; he builds and hungers;

He watches the sky, his hand on his breast.

Happy the man who can name his chimera,

Desired forever, forever unpossessed.