I have heard people say

There is no bird wiser

Than the swallow: where

Its eye lights on a place

That is not suitable for it,

It does not give it

A second glance.

Though it may drop

The food from its beak,

It abandons it and hurries off.

It is afraid of men, and yet

It stealthily takes up

Its nesting nearby them,

Finding its protection

And granary’sattic floors.

I’ve also heard people say

A small bag cannot be made

To contain what is large;

A short rope cannot be used

To draw water from a deep well.

Very well, but what am I to do

And what am I not to do?

How am I to be guided after all

In regard to what I accept

Or reject? What I thank for

Or conceive a hatred for?

And what I pursue diligently

Or put away from me? . .