And wonder, you, the time which lies between,
The landscape of the world detached from sight,
Where all required to animate obscene
This thought: to hate one’s vision and rewrite
The stubborn fruitless page of crumpled plight.
A worthless word, now toss to flame of death,
The judgment of hypocrisy polite.
For never could embrace you, sordid deaf,
The value, inadmissible, my honest depth!