528-8
I talked — they came to hate me.
Had I kept silent — they would not have noticed.
Had I thought rightly — all would have been well,
Whether they lay, sat or ran,
They would honor the frightened, praise the brave.
They mock a mindless hero,
A coward without cause is worth pity.
Who cannot listen is not heard,
They will love me when I myself love.
To filter yourself, to sift again,
To shed the extra burden —
There is no point even dreaming of more.
The blessing is good thoughts.