What do you think?
Rate this book


157 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1984
THAT NOTHING IS KNOWN"The human destiny/Of brief joy and lingering despair"—that says it all, doesn't it?
The moon can't know it is serene and clear,
Nor can it even know it is the moon;
Nor sand that it is sand. No thing may soon
Or ever know it has a strange form here.
The pieces made of ivory are as far
From abstract chess as is the hand, the key,
That guides them. Perhaps the human destiny
Of brief joy and lingering despair
Is the instrument of the Other. We can't know.
Giving it the name of god does no good.
And fear, doubt, and the midday prayer we could
Not finish—all that is futile. What bow
Could have released the arrow that I am?
What peak can be the target of that hand?