When the early morning light quietly
grows above the mountains . . .
The world’s darkening never reaches
to the light of being.
We are too late for gods and too
early for being. Being’s poem,
just begun, is man.
To head toward a star – this only.
To think is to confine yourself to a
single thought that one day stands
still like a star in the world’s sky.
- Aus der Erfahrung des Denkens (Pfullingen: Neske, 1954) trans. A. Hofstadter.
