… a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces. Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.
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Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?
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O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!
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Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane -end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
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O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.
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