Poems
Out of context: Reply #19
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ok. to that purl i've posted here goes a pityful translation. the poem is from 1918:
In a excessively clear day,/
A day that would prompt you to work harder,/
So that you wouldn't work so much,/
I saw, like a road between trees,/
What is probably the Big Secret:/
The Big Mistery that most fake poets talk about./I saw that there was no Nature./
That Nature doesn't exist.../
There are Hills, Valleys, Pastures,/
And Trees, Flowers and Grass,/
There are Rivers and Stones,/
But there is not a whole thing to belong to,/
And that if the whole thing looks real and true/
That is a disease of our thoughts./Nature is parts without whole./
That is probably the mistery everyone's speaks of./It was like this, without thought or being stopped,/
That I thought of the Truth/
Which all are striving to find and do not find/
And that me, only, because i wasn't looking for it, did found./