Is there a lord of rivers? — Rivers asked. —
Then I will reach the ocean in my own
Way; for what is this lord but a blending of voices,
The rivers' vast possession into which they flow,
Transformed? Is then this domain
Contained within itself, or do its entrails seethe
With foreign keys?
The sea never owns the sea: the essence of the water
Is a diversity of lands made water in the foam of islands
And peninsulas, where every cape and proper strait,
This grand apparatus of mountains and their minions
Meet. It follows that to own a land is to recognize
That one is owned, and this proud ocean
Does the bidding of his vassals, utters their commands
With a voice that redounds of particular
Rocks. Then where am I flowing? Into myself,
But myself made master of myself, the Lord of hosts.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment