Classic Poem

Means death so much? Is it so great an ill
As most men think?…Birth was not pain-bestead,
And we shall feel no pain when we are dead.
Let be! What birth began, death must fulfil.

“But thou shalt cease to be!” What then?…The chill
That leaves our bodies hueless, cold, and dread,
Ends feeling too. The fateful Spinner's thread
Once broken, there's no longing, wish, nor will.

“Thou shalt not eat.” I shall have no desire
Toward meat or drink. The body by such fare
Lengthens its life and our dependency;

The spirit needs them not. “But love, the fire
Of joy, shall fail thee.” And I shall not care.
He that escapes desire, at last is free.