by Anne Carson, from Decreation
Walking the wild mountain in a storm I saw the great trees throw their arms.
Ruin! they cried and seemed aware
the sublime is called a "science of anxiety."
What do men and women know of it? -- at first
not even realizing they were naked!
The language knew.
Watch "naked" (arumim) flesh slide into "cunning" (arum) snake in the next verse.
And suddenly a vacancy, a silence,
is somewhere inside the machine.
Veins pounding.
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