Poem II

1Our desert hath no bound,Our hearts and souls have no rest.

2World in world has ta’en Form’s image;Which of these images is ours?

3When thou seest in the pathway a severed head,Which is rolling toward our field,

4Ask of it, ask of it, the secrets of the heart:For of it thou wilt learn our hidden mystery.

5How would it be, if an ear showed itself,Familiar with the tongues of our songsters?

6How would it be, if a bird took wing,Bearing the collar of the secret of our Solomon?

7What shall I say, what think? for this taleIs too high for our limited and contingent being.

8How keep silence, when every momentOur anguish grows more anguished?

9Partridge and falcon alike are flying togetherMid the air of our mountain-land;

10Mid an air which is the seventh atmosphere,At the zenith whereof is our Saturn.

11Are not the seven heavens below the empyrean?Beyond the empyrean is our revolution.

12What place here for aspirations toward the empyrean and the sky?Our journey is to the rose-garden of union.