Metaphysical Sonnet, Poem by Charles Cros

Poem by Charles Cros Collection The Sandalwood CasketPeriod 19th century

In these cycles, so vast that the soul is frightened by them,
The first impulse in deliberate motions
Exerts itself. But farther on the Law no longer reigns:
The nebula is, as if at random, torn apart.

The contingent world where our soul painfully
Clears a path in the land of the chosen,
Like those hairy whirlpools beyond the sky,
Stirs discordant in the sacred waltz.

And then, entering into the following cycle,
A world the scholar’s lens cannot reach,
One sees the first Law reigning all-powerful.

And beneath the brow that hail and wind beat in vain,
The worlds of idea exchanging their light
Turn, balanced, in a living rhythm.

Charles Cros

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