The Sceptic Speaks to St. Simeon

"St. Simeon, I come to join your rule.

The smell of my own dung is sweet, my tears.

Alone I love conversing with a fool,

the laughter of the ages in my ears."

"The world's mockery is lasting fame.

In what has left the flesh there is no blame."

"The mountain was too short; on props of stone

you bolstered up its height. What do you flee?

Yourself? The Godless wants of flesh and bone?

Is fear the cunning prop of sanctity?"

"To flee the self is wisdom. Here I found

such worlds of self my knees invent the ground."

"From earth God fashioned you, for earth, not air.

You save the birds and damn your fellow man."

"The world is full enough; the heavens are bare.

I save no-one, but labor while I can."

"At what? What work, in all these years of sleep,

do you accomplish?" "I think of God, and weep."