The one who watches and is not disturbed,
Who stands at a high window draped in black
And stares. Who observes without collecting
Specimens or data. Who sees how the wind
Sweeps away the scraps down the stairs.
Who does not eat. Who does not stir, except
With a tiny, perpetual trembling of delight.
Who knows how it goes. Who is contented
And fed with the going. Who never goes.