Chapter 14 law

Then a lawyer said, but what about our laws, master? He replied: You gladly legislate, But more than happy to destroy them. Like children playing by the sea, they tirelessly build sand towers and destroy them with a smile. But when you build sand towers, the sea brings more sand to the beach, And when you destroy the sand towers, the sea laughs with you. Indeed, the sea always plays with the innocent. But what about those whose life is not an ocean, and man-made laws are not sand towers? What about those who carve out life as a rock, law as a knife, and themselves as their archetype?

What about the disability of the jealous dancer? What about the bull who likes to yoke and regards the deer in the woods as a wanderer? What about a shameless old snake who cannot shed its skin and calls another's nakedness? What about those who come early to the wedding feast, fed and weary, and declare that all feasting is a blasphemy of the law, and that all who attend are lawbreakers? What can I say of such people, except that they stand in the sun with their backs turned away? They see only their own shadow, which is their law. What is the sun to them but a projector? Is it admitted that the law is but the shadow cast on the earth by the bowed and bowed?

If you walk towards the sun, how can the shadow cast on the earth hold you back? If you walk with the wind, what vane will show you the way? How can man-made laws bind you, if you do not break the chains before others come? If you danced without breaking anyone's chains, what law should you fear? Who will bring you to court if you tear off your garments and leave them in no one's path? Men of Orphalias, you may muffle the drums and loosen the strings, but who can forbid the larks to sing?