THE WORLD AS REPRESENTATION Poem by Luís Quintais

"The world is my representation."
What type of image
flashes in my mind
when, at night, a dog howls
as if its flesh
were not flesh of its flesh
but a thick veil
covering its pain
and making it sharper?

I fling open a window
and pursue the trail and the rage
of that extraordinary dog,
that dog that exists somewhere
past seeing.

The night I'd ignored becomes visible,
but not that rage, that dog's absolute rage,
even though my eyes go blind
from searching, with a desperate will,
for light.