Words are sloppy—we like Math.²
Our conversation consists of
Nothing but Arithmetic.³
When we’re doing Math,
We turn Transparent.⁴
Equation plagued on both sides—⁵
Swarming of Number over Number—⁶
Eternal, shallow mathematical present.⁷
Number, fitting all things into the Soul
Through sense perception, renders them
Comprehensible and mutually in accord.⁸
In broken mathematics we estimate our Prize—
Vast in its fading Ratio to our penurious eyes—⁹
Can one verify the final sum
Without including oneself?¹⁰
¹ Douglas Adams, So Long and Thanks for All the Fish
² Ursula K. Le Guin, Paradises Lost
³ Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
⁴ Haruki Murakami tr. Jay Rubin, 1Q84
⁵ Paul Celan tr. Ian Fairley, For Eric
⁶ Wallace Stevens, Chocorua to Its Neighbor
⁷ Hermann Hesse tr. Richard & Clara Winston, Magister Ludi
⁸ Philolaus of Tarentum tr. Simone Weil
⁹ Emily Dickinson, As By the Dead We Love to Sit
¹⁰ Wisława Szymborska tr. Barańczak & Cavanagh, Elegiac Calculations