Only Democracy should be crowned—
Like her, who the Athenians found
Weeping by the spring where Narcissus drowned—
Like her, the daughter of Egypt, who found
Smiling in the river, the child, in the singing reeds around—
Only Democracy unites, inside division,
All love, without regret or derision,
Because love eventually divides.
She decides. She decides.
She knows what you want,
You beautiful infant,
And knows how you want it, too.
Democracy kisses you
And whispers, “think it through.”
It is—and is not—about you.
Passion does not move her,
Lies do not soothe her;
She tames the mob with a calm majority,
Replacing the mob’s energy
With something all understand:
Agreement out of disagreement,
Counted by her beautiful hand.
Don’t be afraid to lose.
Bend to the temporary rule of others,
Who will laugh at what you choose,
Because in bonding with love that dies
In the middle of the reed songs where the river lies,
Democracy waits with a terrible surprise:
Those who love the same as you,
Are vindicated, in both old and new.
Those, who mocked you, must see
You—loved by Democracy.
And when she takes away your day
You’ll cry. But love her. And obey.