I
admire the ability of so many people
To
possess such strong opinions.
They
know everything about everything,
Hurling
their lethal harpoons like Olympians
From
some golden age when no one suffered
And
perfection prevailed in a flawless arcadia.
As
for me, I know nothing.
All
my life I have studied –
I
queried and probed
The
writings of geniuses;
I
meditated on the scriptures
Of
ancient religions;
I
considered the science
Of
the pioneers and the moderns;
I
luxuriated in the words
Of
literary heroes and heroines;
I
applied myself
To
poetic expressions of feelings.
And,
yet, I must conclude
That
I know nothing.
So
I am the worst of men -
A
mere shell that has no content,
As
hollow as the home of a dead mollusc.
