by Piet Hein
a catastrophic minimum.
But nonetheless the final sum
is Nature’s well-known middlemum.
GOOD ADVICE
Shun advice
at any price—
that’s what I call
good advice.
THE ME ABOVE THE ME
Giving in is no defeat.
Passing on is no retreat.
Selves are made to rise above.
You shall live in what you love.
SUB SPECIE—
Sub specie
aeternitatis
even the dearest bought
is gratis.
WHO AM I?
Who am I
to deny
that maybe
God is me?
THE ULTIMATE WISDOM
Philosophers
must ultimately find
their true perfection
in knowing all
the follies of mankind
—by introspection.
FORM AND MATERIAL
A grook about the impermanence of language
I see myself and what I write enclosed in
an hour-glass’s uppermost retort.
The very stuff my patterns are composed in
must fall away, and crumble down to naught.
Yet stubbornly, and in despite of reason,
I still believe that what is fashioned there
will, when the sands run out in destined season,
remain unchanged, suspended in the air.
A TIP
to members of the literary profession
Those
who can write
have a
lot to
learn from those
bright
enough
not to.
ADVICE AT NIGHTFALL
Smile
a while
ere day
is done
and all
your gall
will soon
be gone.
Index of Titles
A Reproof
A Tip
A Word of Encouragement
Abreast
Advice at Nightfall
Allotment
An Echo From the Past
An Old Saw Reset
Brave
Constitutional Point
Dead Reasonable
Enough
Form and Material
Freedom
Good Advice
Investment Policy
It Isn’t Enough
Largesse
Like a Tall, Solid Beech Tree
Making an Effort
Mean Value
Memento Vivere
Nothing Is Indispensable
Pow!
Presence of Mind
Reflection on Size
Rhyme and Reason
Small Things and Great
Stone in Shoe
Sub Specie—
That’s Why
The Arithmetic of Co-Operation
The Final Step
The Final Touch
The Gioconda Simile
The Grasshopper’s Grief
The Me Above the Me
The Only Solution
The Overdoers
The Slot Machine
The State
The Ultimate Wisdom
The Unattainable Ideal
The Untenable Argument
The Wisdom of the Spheres
Thoughts on a Station Platform
Time and Eternity
Timing Toast
What Love Is Like
What People May Think
When Ignorants—
Who Am I?
Wide Road
Index of First Lines
A grasshopper sat on a flagstone and wept
Anxieties yield
Certainly Leonardo’s
Freedom means
Giving in is no defeat
He that lets
He who aims
How instructive
I see myself and what I write enclosed in
Idiots are really
If a nasty jagged stone
If they made diving boards
If you’re wooing the present
I’m sitting with my back against
In view of your manner
It ought to be plain
It’s pleasant to give
Love is like
Love while you’ve got
My adversary’s argument
Nature, our father and mother
Of drink and victuals
One paramount truth
Our so-called limitations, I believe
Philosophers
Power corrupts
Prehistoric monsters straying
Shun advice
Small people often overrate
Smile a while
Some people cower
Somebody said
Stomach-ache can be a curse
Sub specie
That baddies are baddies
The universe may
There was an old woman
Those who can write
Timing toast is simpler than
To be brave is to behave
To keep an ever-open door
To make a name for learning
Truth shall emerge from the interplay
We hope our share of luck will come
We ought to live
We shall have to evolve
We’re leaving wisdom
When you’re adding up committees
Where the woods and ploughlands
Who am I
Why do bad writers
Yes, life is a gamble
Your days on earth