I sat down, feeling desolated, bowed my head and crossed my knees--
Is fortune really predicated upon such tiny turns as these?
Then Fate's a thing without a head.
A puzzle never understood,
And man proceeds where he is led,
Unguaranteed of bad or good.
Fate can be a trap in our path,
The bitter cup of your tears,
Your wine of wrath!
Fate can be shade of the desert blaze,
Sudden food in a famine found,
The sound of praise!
Incomprehensible and strange,
Fate can play a trick with the twine
To weave the evil and good
In one design!
And so, my Destiny,
I look at you and cannot see
Is it good, is it ill?
Am I blessed, am I cursed?
Is it honey on my tongue or brine?
What fate, what fate is mine?