The Mother's sandals

"At our bliss-dawn who dares to gaze?
But alas, my brothers, sisters bear
From morn to eve and every where
Contempt wild from the human race.

From burning soil and slushing shower
Our million comrades save mankind,
Yet thick are the faults the mortals find.
Humanity brings no dower.

Mother, between our doleful race
And us alas, what dire contrast!
Worshipped for all ages we shall last.
Off will they be kicked without praise."

"My children, aim not your anger's arrow
At breasts of human souls, nothing wrong
They do, your kin round them can throng
Only when their high service they throw
On earthly men with perfect bloom.
For you know, your future brothers as well
Must cherish the feet of men and dwell.
In it my renewal and doom."