As I see my soul reflected in Nature
As I see through a mist, one with inexpressible
Completeness, sanity, beauty
See the bent head and arms folded over the breast
The female I see
Each belongs here or anywhere just as much as the well-off
Just as much as you
Each has his or her place in the procession
(All is a procession
The universe is a procession
With measured and perfect motion)
Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who
Defile the dead?
And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul?
And if the body were not the soul, then what is the soul?