Further to the last two posts, the poet speaks of a new way of seeing:
I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depth,
against a great thing.
And nothing happens!
Nothing . . . Silence . . . Waves . . .
— Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?
Juan Ramón Jiménez (1881–1958), Andalusian poet, 1956 Nobel Prize in Literature. Translation © Bly, R. (1995). The soul is here for its own joy: sacred poems from many cultures. New York: The Ecco Press. image: picasaweb.google.com