You only love when you love in vain. Try another radio probe when ten have failed, take two hundred rabbits when a hundred have died: only this is science. You ask the secret. It has just one name: again. In the end a dog carries in his jaws his image in the water, people rivet the new moon, I love you. Like caryatids our lifted arms hold up time’s granite load and defeated we shall always win. Miroslav Holub, “Ode to Joy,” tr. by Ian Milner
