The bystander

I am the one who looks the other way
Watching the actors
Like the baseless fabrics of vision
Faded substantial pageants

I stand in the square
Brave and forlon
With grief too sad for songs
Weeping for our generation
For the mountain of casuistry
Heaped over their heads

I am the prophet
Whose tears are vain?
Palely loitering in broad daylight
Yet being too happy in my happiness
Walk in beauty like a knight
Whose innocence in love below
And above is at peace.