The shop-keepers on their chairs
Have marked out God along the walls,
And when the sky becomes dark,
I saw some one who raised my arm.
I felt the water come under the oars.
My room like a sieve, has allowed
Subjected forces to glide in to me.
The great outside has thought, I am sure of it!
A night divine, a moonlight night.
The train has realized itself in the tunnel,
whose breath is like that
Of the oxen, who were there
When a God was born in a stable.
Great forces are stirring:
In theaters and barracks,
In churches and streets,
And in cities.
Brute and divine,
Unconscious and naked,
That will be the real gods,
Because so we have dream'd it,
Because so we have willed it.