While fastening my gaze through the green leaves,
         I peered up as a hunter usually does
         Who wastes his life in prowling after birds.
         At that my more-than-father told me, "Son,
5        Come on now, for the time allotted us
         Ought to be portioned out more purposefully."
         I turned my eyes and — just as fast — my steps
         Straight after those two sages who talked so,
         That it made walking with them cost me nothing.
10       And suddenly in tears and song we heard
         "Open my lips, O Lord," sung in such tones
         That it gave birth to gladness and to grief.
         "O gentle father, what is this I hear?"
         I wondered; and he: "Shades who journey on,
15       Perhaps loosening the knot of their bad debt."
         Like pilgrims who go wrapped in pious thought
         And, overtaking strangers on the road,
         Turn toward them but do not stop to talk,
         So from behind us, moving faster, com

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