Drunken Master: How long
has it been since our last conversation?
Me: Days and weeks, seems
a long time.
Master: What have you seen
lately?
Me: The usual herd of
humanity moving to and fro.
Master: Is that what you
see or is that what you think you see?
Me: It’s what I think I
see.
Master: Have you visited
Henry Wardsworth Longfellow?
Me: You mean the ancient
Poet? No I haven’t drank from his old cup since ages.
Master: He had seen what
you think you saw.
Me: You mean the
meaningless movement of the herd of humanity?
Master: Exactly. Why don’t
you look him up.
Me: Would you be kind to
give me the long and the short of this fellow’s vision?
Master: Aha, good pun. The
long and the short of the fellow’s vision, I
like it. You’re sharp
today, what have you imbibed, may I ask?
Me: Nothing beats the good
old saint named Miguel.
Master: Well, Longfellow
is one of a kind, he was deeply perceptive. He saw that in this teeming sea of
humanity most men are like driven cattle living meaningless lives because they
go only where others lead them to go not knowing why… so he penned these lines:
“In the world’s broad
field of battle, in the bivouac of life, be not like dumb driven cattle, be a
hero in the strife…
Lives of great men all
remind us, we can make our lives sublime, and departing leave behind us,
footprints in the sands of time.
Footprints, that perhaps
another, sailing o’er life’s solemn main, a forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
seeing, shall take heart again.”
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