Why do you strive for greatness, fool?



LII.

Why do you strive for greatness, fool?

Go pluck a bough and wear it.

It is as sufficing.

My Lord, there are certain barbarians

Who tilt their noses

As if the stars were flowers,

And Thy servant is lost among their shoe-buckles.

Fain would I have mine eyes even with their eyes.

Fool, go pluck a bough and wear it.