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FmWell I stepped into an C#avalanche, FmIt covered D#up my Fmsoul;
FmWhen I am not this C#hunchback that you see, FmI sleep benD#eath the Fmgolden hill.
G#You who wish to Cconquer pain, You must Fmlearn, learn to serve me C#well.
You strike my side by accident As you go down for your gold. The cripple here that you clothe and feed Is neither starved nor cold; He does not ask for your company, Not at the centre, the centre of the world. When I am on a pedestal, You did not raise me there. Your laws do not compel me To kneel grotesque and bare. I myself am the pedestal For this ugly hump at which you stare. You who wish to conquer pain, You must learn what makes me kind; The crumbs of love that you offer me, Theyre the crumbs Ive left behind. Your pain is no credential here, Its just the shadow, shadow of my wound. I have begun to long for you, I who have no greed; I have begun to ask for you, I who have no need. You say youve gone away from me, But I can feel you when you breathe. Do not dress in those rags for me, I know you are not poor; You dont love me quite so fiercely now When you know that you are not sure, It is your turn, beloved, It is your flesh that I wear.