A Scholar

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Title:     A Scholar
Author: Eunice Tietjens [More Titles by Tietjens]

You sit, chanting the maxims of Confucius.
On your head is a domed cap of black satin and your
    supple hands with their long nails are piously
    folded.
You rock to and fro rhythmically.
Your voice, rising and falling in clear nasal monosyllables,
    flows on steadily, monotonously, like the
    flowing of water and the flowering of thought.
You are chanting, it seems, of the pious conduct of man
    in all ages,
And I know you for a scoundrel.
None the less the maxims of Confucius are venerable,
    and your voice pleasant.
I listen attentively....
  Wusih

[The end]
Eunice Tietjens's poem: Scholar

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