The vast violence of the universe
The explosions of the stars
The heat and the dark
The cold and the distance
All remind us
How rare and small and strange we are
Out there none of this seems made for us
And our moon-steps and our Mars voyages
Show how difficult and resistant to us
All but our earth is
Once we could perhaps look out and dream
But now we know too much
And deep deep space
And deep deep time
Even if they were not escaping
Are far too deep for us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The volume is beyond imagination, and only mathematically discernible to a few. Violence and serenity coinciding. Perhaps only one out of infinite such existence. It is that which is; no more and no less.