The poem
O you tender ones, walk now and then into the breath that blows coldly past, Upon your cheeks let it tremble and part; behind you it will tremble together again.
O you blessed ones, you who are whole, you who seem the beginning of hearts, bows for the arrows and arrows' targets-- tear-bright, your lips more eternally smile.
Don't be afraid to suffer; return that heaviness to the earth's own weight; heavy are the mountains, heavy the seas.
Even the small trees you planted as children have long since become too heavy; you could not carry them now. But the winds...But the spaces....