You understand both Adolphe and Fabrice
The speculative man or passionate;
You know the smarmies, but side-step the grease
Ably appraising depth, direction, rate;
Through narrow seas you plunge, to seek the Fleece,
So sure, you even risk arriving late,
By flirting, hook-wise, with attractive bait.
You teach Adolphe a hair-raising escape
Out of the round cell of his lover’s eyes,
Show him a huge world with a violent shape;
You teach Fabrice to sit and analyse;
The smart are dead waist-down: you wear no crêpe;
You leave the mermaid, having formed no ties;
You get the Golden Fleece, you are so wise.
Yet you for all the sanity and ease,
The disconcerting smile omniscient,
Are prisoned in perplexity like these,
Fabrice and Adolphe; on your discontent
An ailing parasite; to enemies,
Ponces and whores, concede, because intent
On groping round your own bewilderment.