—Max Picard, The World of Silence, 1948,
translated by Stanley Goodman, 1952                                   
                                   
Sometimes on a summer’s day the village is sunk
In silence, as if sunk under the earth.

Sometimes there is a seat by the side of the road, with a cat
Resting on it. Each day appears unnoticed.

Sometimes the wall of a house stands in the light.
The spirit does not feel itself forsaken.

Sometimes in the city a man suddenly collapses
And dies in the midst of the noise of the highway.

Sometimes when the sea outside is calm,
Sometimes the frozen ships attempt to move.