A SHAKESPEARE PORTRAIT

You whose mind awakens

Endless generations

Why is your true face so unknown,

And unknowable?

As if you wished to conceal

Your form that you may reveal

That which flows from your soul

To ours, through the inconstancy

Of words, which bring forth

From changing times

Immortal truths, so that justice,

In secret, may prevail.

A balancing hand runs

Through civilisations.

Something mysterious

Ebbs and flows in the sea

Of lives. You show the grace

Of the sea in your hidden face;

But with your dreams

We all stand as one dreamer

In the tempest and the dust.

To know your work

Is not to guess your face;

To see your face is not

To imagine your work.

Your work is a world,

Your face a mask

Behind which the unknown

Master smiles.