SEIZE THE DAY
"I'm trying to figure out who this Thou is."
"Thou? Thou is you."
"Me! Why? This applies to me?"
403
"Why shouldn't it apply to you? You were in my mind when I
composed it. Of course, the hero of the poem is sick humanity.
If
it
would open its eyes it would be great."
"Yes, but how do I get into this?"
"The main idea of the poem is
construct
or
destruct.
There is no
ground in between. Mechanism is
destruct.
Money of course is
destruct.
When the last grave is dug, the gravedigger will have to be paid.
If
you could have confidence in nature you would not have to fear. It
would keep you up. Creative is nature. Rapid. Lavish. Inspirational.
It
shapes leaves. It rolls the waters of the earth. Man is the chief of this.
All creations are his just inheritance. You don't know what you've got
within you. A person either creates or he destroys. There is no
neutrality...."
"I realized you were no beginner," said Wilhelm with great pro–
priety. "I have only one criticism to make. I think why-forth is wrong.
You should write
Wherefore then dost thou."
And he reflected, So? I
took a gamble. It'll have to be a miracle though to save me. My money
will be gone, then it won't be able to destruct me. He can't just take
and lose it, though. He's in it, too. I think he's in a bad way himself.
He must be. I'm sure because, come to think of it, he sweated blood
when he signed that check. But what have I let myself in for?
v
Patiently, in the window of the fruitstore, a man with a
scoop spread crushed ice between his rows of vegetables. There were
also Persian melons, lilacs, tulips with radiant black at the middle. The
many street noises came back after a little while from the caves of
the sky. Crossing the tide of Broadway traffic, Wilhelm was saying to
himself, "The reason Tamkin lectures me is that somebody has lectured
him, and the reason for the poem is that he wants to give me good
advice. Everybody seems to know something. Even fellows like Tamkin.
Many people know what to do, but how many can do it?"
He believed that he must, that he could and would recover the
good things, the happy things, the easy tranquil things of life. He had
made mistakes, but he could overlook these. He had been a fool, but
that could be forgiven. The time wasted ... must be relinquished. What
else could one do about it? Things were too complex, but they might
be reduced to simplicity again. Recovery was possible. First he had to
get out of the city. No, first he had to pull out his money. . . .
From the carnival of the street-pushcarts, accordion and fiddle,
shoeshine, begging, the dust going round like a woman on stilts-they
entered the narrow crowded theater of the brokerage office. From front
to back it was filled with the Broadway crowd. But how was lard doing
this morning? From the rear of the hall Wilhelm tried to read the tiny
figures. The German manager was looking through his binoculars.
