II
One’s task and duty? – This: To endlessly dispute
The contours by which all one’s being is defined.
Oh Life, full of resource, to soaring flight inclined,
Which seeks the weight of all dense matter to refute,
I offer all within me to your subtlety!
So that by you, through me, the universe may know
Itself, no humble morals where one bows down low,
But all of Satan’s pride in its immensity –
His gesture sent towards the vast great Mystery.
My own enigma, which I challenge endlessly,
You cloudy aether’s secret, exit door of old –
Like lightning flashes may my night dreams you both seize,
Here by this April wood, whose seeds shake in the breeze
’Neath the moon, at my feet, sowing duvets of gold.
No comments:
Post a Comment