Poemas de Sam Walter Foss

La casa a la vera del camino

Hay almas ermitañas que viven apartadas
en la paz de su contento;
hay almas, como estrellas que se alejan
en un firmamento solitario;
hay almas pioneras que van dejando huellas
donde nunca hubo carreteras,
mas yo prefiero vivir a la vera del camino
y ser amigo del hombre.

Prefiero una casa a la vera del camino,
por donde pase la raza de los hombres,
hombres que son buenos, hombres que son malos,
tan buenos o malos como yo.
A ninguno deseo ofender con burlas
ni agraviar con mi cinismo.
Quiero una casa a la vera del camino, y ser amigo del hombre.

Desde mi casa de la vera del camino,
la vera del camino de la vida,
veo hombres enchidos de esperanza,
hombres que en la lucha desfallecen,
mas no rehuyo sus sonrisas ni su llanto,
dos aspectos de un plan infinito.
Quiero una casa a la vera del camino,
y ser amigo del hombre.
Quiero una casa a la vera del camino

The House by the Side of the Road

THERE are hermit souls that live withdrawn
In the place of their self-content;
There are souls like stars, that dwell apart,
In a fellowless firmament;
There are pioneer souls that blaze the paths
Where highways never ran-
But let me live by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
Where the race of men go by-
The men who are good and the men who are bad,
As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner’s seat
Nor hurl the cynic’s ban-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road
By the side of the highway of life,
The men who press with the ardor of hope,
The men who are faint with the strife,
But I turn not away from their smiles and tears,
Both parts of an infinite plan-
Let me live in a house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.
I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead,
And mountains of wearisome height;
That the road passes on through the long afternoon
And stretches away to the night.
And still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice
And weep with the strangers that moan,
Nor live in my house by the side of the road
Like a man who dwells alone.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
Where the race of men go by-
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
Wise, foolish – so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat,
Or hurl the cynic’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
And be a friend to man.

Toil’s Sweet Content

THE Man of Questions paused and stood
Before the Man of Toil,
And asked, «Are you content, my man,
To dig here in the soil?
Do you not yearn for wealth and fame,
And this wide world to see?»
The Man of Toil still stirred the soil
And answered, «No, sir-ee!»
«Do you not yearn,» the Questioner asked,
«To pluck life’s higher fruits?»
«Oh, yes,» said he, «I’d like, maybe,
Another pair of boots.»
«And wouldn’t you like a coat to match,
And pantaloons and a hat;
And wouldn’t you like to dress as well
As your neighbor Jacob Pratt?»
«Why, I’d have duds as good as Jake,»
The Man of Toil replied;
«Why, I’d have clo’es as good as those
‘Fore I’d be satisfied.»
«But if Jake ran for selectman
And nothing could defeat him,
How would it do, then, just for you
To step right in and beat him?»
«First-class idee,» the Man of Toil
Responded with delight;
«I think I’d make mince-meat of Jake
‘Fore we got through the fight.»
«And then you’d settle down content?»
«Content? Of Course! I swan!
A man’s a hog who asks for more
When he’s a sillickman.»
«But, sir, our Congress is corrupt
And needs a renovation;
Wouldn’t you consent in such event
To take the nomination?»
«Oh yes I’d take the job,» said he.
The Questioner arched his eyes,
«Then don’t you think the presidency
Would be about your size?
Now after Congress had been cleansed
Beyond a shade of doubt
I think you’d go–you would, I know–
And clean the White House out.»
«I’d take the job and do it brown,»
The Man of Toil replied;
«But you hoe corn from morn till night
And still are satisfied.»
«Me satisfied! I guess that you
Don’t know me,» he began–
«Oh, yes, I do, I well know you
You are the Average Man.»