For what wilt thou sell thy Lord?
“For certain pieces of silver, since wealth buys the world's good word.”
But the world's word, how canst thou hear it, while thy brothers cry scorn on thy name?
And how shall thy bargain content thee, when thy brothers shall clothe thee with shame?
For what shall thy brother be sold?
“For the rosy garland of pleasure, and the coveted crown of gold.”
But thy soul will turn them to thorns, and to heaviness binding thy head,
While women are dying of shame, and children are crying for bread.
“But, when my soul shall be gone,
No more shall I fail to profit by all the deeds I have done!
And wealth and the world and pleasure shall sing sweet songs in my ear
When the stupid soul is silenced, which never would let me hear.
“And if a void there should be
I shall not feel it or know it; it will be nothing to me!”
It will be nothing to thee, and thou shalt be nothing to men
But a ghost whose treasure is lost, and who shall not find it again.
“But I shall have pleasure and praise!”
Praise shall not pleasure thee then, nor pleasure laugh in thy days:
For as colour is not, without light, so happiness is not, without
Thy Brother, the Lord whom thou soldest — and the soul that thou hast cast out!