Poetry “Perfection”

FURNITURE(2)

At times, merging into my soul – a moment of perfection,
Vain seems my learning, and incomplete
The world´s knowledge gathered through its lifetime.
At this moment into timelessness, spacelessness, perfection;
Vain is all art, cults, creeds, humanity -all incomplete.
Ilusions! Mirages! And then that moment lapses:
The limitless becomes limited, the infinite becomes finite.
The machinery of mind starts rolling in its own disturbance-
Surveying the din and tumult of the world. 

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All existence becomes real and time is divided:
The mind gropes in its own darkness.
Real becomes the multitude stricken with pain-
All striving for wealth or fame or a lady´s hand.

A strife for perfection – the aim of all – consciously or unconsciously.
Knowledge and art and cults and creeds are not in vain
In the world of mind: toiling, striving, fathoming-
Seeking completeness from without.
I that had tasted of infinity
Brust upon them of it, but who hears,
And fighting with my own mind at times, to loosen its bonds,
I try to seek within for another moment of eternity.

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