Like the throbbing lightning-dash Poem by Karel van de Woestijne

Like the throbbing lightning-dash of engines
to which a human will has strapped itself,
seeking to penetrate the unfathomable void
to where it pierces the gaze of God's eye;

no, but like light in light: like to a candle
so meagre that the sun swallows it quite
from early green to final purple glow,
but which knows that its smallness cannot be snuffed out;

no, but like carp which in the densest ooze
gulp in some life, until Death finds them out
who only then through rags of mother-of-pearl
lifts their blond bellies to the blowing light;

but no, oh no: like earth and like metal,
condensed by pressure and suction of the universe,
are inaccessible and secret rays
gathered together in one crystal tear;

no, but dead flesh, dissolved in sluggish streams
or richly blooming in a feast for worms;
no, just that flesh, that flesh and wretched oozing,
and the lowly beast that on the great beast dances;

no, no, oh God (I know not how to say;
I know not, God, I know not, but I say:
God):

like the . . .

like . . .