There is no life for humanity, save in useful toil for the good of all their brothers and sisters. There is no joy for us, save for the joy we share with everyone.
But the only things which taught us joy were created in our solitude and moments of deep musing. And all these joys belong to us alone, they come from us alone, from our perspective, from how everything we have experienced mashes up inside us. Thus we find ourselves wondering.
There is some error therefore, one frightful error, in the thinking of beings. We believe that we can be happy while leaving others behind.
Remember when we looked at our brothers and sisters and said: “We love you.”
But they frowned and shook their head and looked at us helplessly.
“No,” they whispered, “that is not what we wished to say.”
They were silent, then they spoke slowly, and their words were halting, like the words of a child learning to speak for the first time:
“We are one… alone… and only… and we love you who are one… alone… and only.”
We looked into each other’s eyes and we knew that the breath of a miracle had touched us, and fled, and left us groping vainly.
And we felt torn, torn for some word we could not find.
Adapted for The Blog of Love
by Zimbabwean poet Iz Mazano
from ‘Anthem‘ by Russian-American writer & Philosopher, Ayn Rand
Because self-interest dies when we kill common interest.
Photo by Bran Sodre from Pexels
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