The world we know can not be all there is.
There’s more between us than we know,
and things unseen are hunting us
in sleep, even in space they are, so there.

I dream so nicely of you and your love;
this, while you do not care at all.
To me, you live in unseen, gentle tremblings
and I think much of you, unseen.

But do my tremblings and my thoughts,
however gentle, somehow make it to your heart?
I would not know, my science ends
in fragile words and clumsy speculations.


Comments on: "Wittgenstein: where are you now I need you" (6)

  1. Wittgenstein I love. The only philosopher I know who wrote two major works, each totally contradicting the other. So much so that I call him “Whattgenstein?”

    • I have his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus and I got lost in the first page after the first line, (that the world is all that is the case) as there we have a whole Universe written off. πŸ™‚ Still I like his work (that only one I know that is) for the way he wrote it, in small fragments. (I guess you can relate to that πŸ™‚ )

  2. I think I’ll have to reblog my piece on the Tractatus

  3. Your “science ends in fragile words and clumsy speculations” line says it exactly the way it is for those of us who struggle with science, but the poem is not clumsy at all. Another kind of science. Wittgenstein is the one to address this poem to.

    • Thank you very much David. Science sometimes seems like magic, not to be understood by non scientific people lol πŸ™‚

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