Through the Desert

The Last Bus Midnight. The last bus. The conductor cuts me a ticket. Neither bad news nor a big dinner                  is waiting for me at home. For me, absence waits. I approach it without sadness                  or fear. The great dark is closing in. Now I can look at the world                  quietly and at peace. I’m no longer surprised by a friend’s treachery,                  a knife concealed in a handshake. It's useless — the enemy can’t provoke me now. I passed through the forest of idols                  with my axe —                  how easily they all came down. I put my beliefs to the test once more,         I’m thankful that most of them turned out pure. I have never been radiant this way,                  never free like this. Nâzım Hikmet English translation by Randy Blasing and Mutlu Konuk

René Magritte, La Reconnaissance Infinie, 1961.