sábado, novembro 24, 2007

I g n o r a n c e


Strange to know nothing, never to be sure

Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I feel,
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.


Strange to be ignorant of the way things work:
Their skill at finding what they need,
Their sense of shape, and punctual spread of seed,
And willingness to change;Yes, it is strange,


Even to wear such knowledge – for our flesh
Surrounds us with its own decisions –
And yet spend all our life on imprecisions,
That when we start to die
Have no idea why.

[ Philip Larkin, The Whitsun Weddings]
Sábado, Dezembro 09, 2006