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Baruch Spinoza

Hazy gold, the Occident lights up
The windowpane. The manuscript assiduous
Awaits, laden with infinitude.
Somebody is building God in twilight.
A man engendering God. He is a Jew
With sorrowful eyes and sallow skin;
Time bears him as the river bears
A leaf on its declining water.
No matter. Insistently the wizard works
On God with delicate geometry;
From his infirmity, his nothingness,
He manufactures God with stintless word.
Prodigious was the love presented him,
The hopeless love of ever being loved.