Dancing in Front of the Glacier Poem from History of Souls Book
If anything, the dead ones remain quite
persistent, or maybe always keen,
to arrive at something succinct—
the word, the precise phrase, the cajoling—
producing the correct apprehension.
“If you consider
a dance of players,” the dead
ones illustrate, “say, at the base
of a glacier, a ballet of exquisite
limbs, with purity of flesh raised
in an art of physics; see them
play, watch them perform, tapity tap,
and then remove all the bodies
from this scene . . .
what is left in front of the glacier
But who can buy such pleasantries?
As if so much importance must be
placed on actually seeing the dead ones . . .
such ingratitude disquiets
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