Sunday, April 4, 2010

A poem by Johann Gottlieb Fichte

Nothing is but God, and God is nothing but life.
You know it; you and I know it together.
But how would knowing be there
If it were not knowing of God's life?

"How gladly would I surrender myself to this!
Yet where do I find it? Somehow it flows
Into knowing, then transforms itself into seeming,
Mingling with it, surrounded by its sheaths."

Quite clearly the sheath rises up before you:
It is your I; what is destructible dies,
And henceforth only God lives in your striving.

See through what survives this striving;
Then the sheath becomes visible to you as sheath,
And unveiled you see divine life.

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