INSIDE a jar with painted flowers A surly servant carries wine. In skies above the darkness lowers, The road is rough and no stars shine. With straining eyes to guide his going, He peers into the darkness dim, Lest the wine flood and overflowing Drip down and soak his breast for him. I also bear a jar, and filled it With sufferings of long ago; I lulled and cunningly distilled it, My poison of remembered woe. By devious ways I travel bearing My jar that brims with evil, lest Someone should come with hands uncaring And spill it down upon my breast. |