Capitolo 39
A house of dust; we walk to on all four with the small lanterns,
Throwing at random our trembling arcs of light,
Now here, now there, seeing an airplane an angle,,
An edge, a curve, a wall, a broken stairway
Conducting to whom knows that that; but never seeing
The whole one immediately. . . We look for our way a small,
And then you/he/she is gotten tired. Any matter what we touch,
Dust is the answer--the dust: you dust everywhere.
If this all were--what was the use, do you ask?
But this is not: for because it owes us we are looking for,
Because if we had to bring this need to look for for the beauty,
To lift our minds, if there was only dust?
This is the central room to which you have come:
Turning back Your to the world, until you it came
To this deep room, and it looked through pink-stained windows,
And it the colors of the world so it changed pleasant.
Well, in a measure, so only face all of us.
I am not sure that you can be disproven.
To the very last one all of us put the faith in anything,--
You in this ghost that animates Your world,
This ethical ghost,--and me, you will say, in reason,--
Or sensuous beauty,--or in my same secret. . .
Although as for that you put Your faith in these,
As much as me face--and then, abandoning reason,--
Ascending, you would say, to the intuition,--
You affirm this the ghost of Your as good.
Clearly, you would have argued,--and you should have,--
What an any so deep aspect of sketch
You/he/she could mould our world without involving purpose:
For you/he/she can draw exists without a purpose?
Without conceiving mind? . . . We am as children
Who find, on the sands, nearby to a sea,
Drawn,--circles of strange models, arcs, ellipsis,
Shaped in the sand. . . Who put there them, do we ask us us?
Did someone draw them here before we came?
Or was it the sea only?--We attentively read on them,
But it doesn't find answer--only suppositions.
And if these perfect forms are the evidence
Of immanent mind, it is, but circumstantial:
We never come on him to his/her job,
He never shakes us. He is standing to distance--