Endless Longing

I have eaten all the ideas and we are one,
Though I sometimes disagree.
They are in my stomach and soon they will overcome me,
And I will burst through the window.
With broken glass in my heart,
I will fly forward and,
I hope, die
Endless longing, he says—
That is the Truth.
I cannot for much longer stand;
Existence is more or less pain.
And hearing these Truths wells up in me tears
Lacrymosa!
For to me, they are immediately meaningful,
Obviously True.
This insight requires no words.
How will I ever put it into a language and convince the nonbelievers?
If they can’t sense it instinctively,
Can they sense it at all?
Oh, I know I access the Sublime!
At times I have wondered if I were really
Not the same,
But now I know I am not the same!
Because today, someone did not understand the difference
Between beauty and SUBLIME
Between sensibility and METAPHYSICS
Between joy and JOY—
But these things to me are indisputable.
They resound in me with honest Disinterest for Art
ART is my RELIGION.
Ach, I can see and laugh at bias even when it is my own.
Endless longing, he says—
How does he know me?