I’ve always been a surveyor.
An authorized surveyor, if you remember.
I’m expert in the similitude of the word
with whatever appears impossible but is possible
as word.
Believing that everything is space,
which exists so that inherent things can exist,
I’m occupied with plotting out the void;
with arbitrary constants and relativities,
with graphics of disorder and order,
from the beginning of things with no beginning I extend the lines
to reach the end of the infinite.
Easy and not so vague,
if before zero you count the one
or if you name the one zero.
With operations that belong to the present;
but the present has no meaning whatsoever
when time divides the now through time
into a past now, an impending now,
and a perpetual now;
when energy, velocity and mass
subject to the equal sign of an equation
beleaguer the nature of the absolute;
and when even what is limited
could well exist as unlimited
and get eternity into trouble.
Thus the cause, the point and the coincidence
and the explosion which burst into laughter
and the expansion of the tiniest and the freeing
and the wandering of matter in light–
thus genesis
and the constellations and galaxies and red giants
and brown dwarfs and supernovae
and the fusion and the counterpoise
and the forces of the cosmic web–
thus the horizon.
And the reasonable myth in the imitation
of the imaginary and necessary similitude.
Trans. Jeffrey Carson – Nikos Sarris