I say, friend, there are many lives out there,
but only one of yours. What do I mean?
I mean you are an art, out of thin air,
you are, as any art, meant to be seen!
So see but just a little, for it’s ill
to see too much and taint the work you are.
Have, more than anything, the unculled will
that is what it is—shines as its own star.
Forget what you have seen, and see yourself!
You are, in one year, more than masterpiece!
The thing that knows, if anything, itself,
gives most of all, and, in death, doesn’t cease.
Read from your own book, say what is in there—
give only what you only have to share.
~~~
No man can know what you have made, so ask
no man to tell you what it means or says.
Dwell only on what you say it says. Bask
alone in what you know your art essays.
And if you make enough, all men will know
what you have wrought. So wring it anyway.
Your work alone will go alone to show
what it is, not what any experts say.
And if you do so, experts will follow.
And if they don’t, the wise fools will see plain
what you have planted; then your work will grow
until your dragons from your grave you’ve slain.
Make art, friend. Make, and let clairvoyance come,
it is the greatest of your greatest sum.