Never can I do in peace

That with which my Soul’s obsessed,

Never take things at my ease.

I must press on without rest.

Others only know elation

When things go their peaceful way,

Free with self-congratulation,

Giving thanks each time they pray.

I am caught in endless strife,

Endless ferment, endless dream.

Worlds I would destroy forever,

Since I can create no world,

Since my call they notice never,

Coursing dumb in magic whirl.

Dead and dumb, they stare away

At our deeds with scorn up yonder.

We and all our works decay --

Heedless on their ways they wander.

Therefore, let us risk our all,

Never resting, never tiring.

Not in silence dismal, dull,

Without action or desiring.

So that yearning, dream and action

Unfulfilled to us remain. 

(Karl Marx)