An Overwhelming Sensation
Who can keep going on as simple-minded people would!
Who can get off in this twilight station
As the simple-minded would! Who can
Speak in their tongues any more? Who knows
Anything for certain any longer? Who bothers
To relish bodily desires now? Who can
Taste again, as everyman once did, the soul's delight?
Where is the joy in sowing seeds everyman once felt,
At this time? Who, striving for harvest,
Daubing himself with the scent of the soil,
Sprinkling himself with the scent of water,
Looking eagerly towards light,
Like a peasant whose heart is full of life,
Can continue to be alert in this world?
No dream — no calm — some overwhelming sensation is at work
In my mind!