You delight in laying down laws,
Yet you delight more in breaking them.
Like children playing by the ocean who build sand-towers with
constancy and then destroy them with laughter.
But while you build your sand-towers the ocean brings more
sand to the shore,
And when you destroy them the ocean laughs with you.
Verily the ocean laughs always with the innocent.
But what of those to whom life is not an ocean, and man-made
What shall I say of these save that they stand in the sunlight, 
laws are not sand-towers,
But to whom life is a rock, and the law a chisel with which they
would carve it in their own likeness?
What of the cripple who hates dancers?
What of the ox who loves his yoke and deems the elk and deer
of the forest stray and vagrant things?
What of the old serpent who cannot shed his skin, and calls all
others naked and shamesless?
And of him who comes early to the wedding-feast, and when
over-fed and tired goes his way saying that all feasts are
violation and all feasters lawbreakers?
but with their backs to the sun?
They see only their shadows, and their shadows are their laws.
And what is the sun to them but a caster of shadows?
And what is it to acknowledge the laws but to stoop down and
trace their shadows upon the earth?
But you who walk facing the sun, what images drawn on the earth
can hold you?
You who travel with the wind, what weather-vane shall direct your
course?
What man's law shall bind you if you break your yoke but upon
no man's prison door?
What laws shall you fear if you dance but stumble against no man's
iron chains?
And who is he that shall bring you to judgment if you tear off your
garment yet leave it in no man's path?
You can muffle the drum, and you can loosen the strings of the lyre,
but who shall command the skylark not to sing?
