When the rising and setting is at end
and all these numbers doth found its center
we then seek only those errors to mend
to see life's pivot this mind must conquer.
Listen to the gravels of existence:
creation is just a mode of taking,
negation a mere act of essence,
and causation a way of conceiving.
But fear not this idle void that comes to thee,
let not the universe be a question
instead, only light what thine eyes must see
or bury the world with blunt confusion;
For the world is nothing that you must find
no reason, nor truth or are your eyes blind?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem