BEGRIFFENFELDT
Outside? No, there you are strangely mistaken!
It’s here, sir, that one is oneself with a vengeance;
oneself, and nothing whatever besides.
We go, full sail, as our very selves.
Each one shuts himself up in the barrel of self,
in the self-fermentation he dives to the bottom,—
with the self-bung he seals it hermetically,
and seasons the staves in the well of self.
No one has tears for the other’s woes;
no one has mind for the other’s ideas.
We’re our very selves, both in thought and tone,
ourselves to the spring-board’s uttermost verge,—
and so, if a Kaiser’s to fill the throne,
it is clear that you are the very man.