Poem in Prose - The Master

闲过信陵饮

The Master<br>By Oscar Wilde<br>
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Now when the darkness came over the earth Joseph of Arimathea,<br>
having lighted a torch of pinewood, passed down from the hill into<br>
the valley. For he had business in his own home.<br>
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And kneeling on the flint stones of the Valley of Desolation he saw<br>
a young man who was naked and weeping. His hair was the colour of<br>
honey, and his body was as a white flower, but he had wounded his<br>
body with thorns and on his hair had he set ashes as a crown.<br>
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And he who had great possessions said to the young man who was naked<br>
and weeping, 'I do not wonder that your sorrow is so great, for<br>
surely He was a just man.'<br>
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And the young man answered, 'It is not for Him that I am weeping,<br>
but for myself. I too have changed water into wine, and I have<br>
healed the leper and given sight to the blind. I have walked upon<br>
the waters, and from the dwellers in the tombs I have cast out<br>
devils. I have fed the hungry in the desert where there was no<br>
food, and I have raised the dead from their narrow houses, and at my<br>
bidding, and before a great multitude, of people, a barren fig-tree<br>
withered away. All things that this man has done I have done also.<br>
And yet they have not crucified me.'<br>
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