Life, you have beaten me, still,
With stinging wounds, I kiss your hands,
Though you have tortured me until
My joy was crushed, my hopes, my will
For things I do not understand.
Though I have trembled at your power
And wept in terror, hour by hour;
For All our struggling, hate and strife,
I love you, Life
Though what I build, you will destroy;
Though you have snatched joy after joy
From my weak hands, and, though you break
My heart and all my dreams dispel,
And silence every drum and fife
That makes my march less terrible…
I love you, Life.
And, Life, for all your cruel powers,
For all your proud brutality;
How wonderful the few brief hours,
When you are kind to me.