Sunday, May 21, 2006
Sunday Poem: 'Golden Verses' after the French of Gerard de Nerval
Free-thinking man! why reckon yours the only sense
In a world where life clamours in all things?
You make use of what powers your liberty brings
But from all your plans the universe is absent.
Respect the independent spirit of each beast;
See a soul open to nature in every burst of petals;
Love's mystery resides in the core of metals;
All things can feel, the greatest to the least.
Revere, in the blind wall, an eye which spys you:
Even to its base matter a verb applies!...
Don't let it serve for some impious use!
Often in the obscurest of beings a god can hide;
and, like the newborn eye to daylight not yet shown,
a pure spirit can swell under the crust of stones.
© Jonathan Wonham