i am merely a medium through which the poem may choose to re-enter the universe and reunite with the Soul of the World. i recognize that the poem is Ancient. it existed long before my birth and therefore does not belong to me. i do not write the poem, but rather attempt to translate it from its natural, Ancient form into something resembling language – something that most closely resembles whatever the poem is trying to tell me it is.
i recognize my simultaneous importance and insignificance in the creative process. i understand the concept of writing and my self-indulgent human need to filter ownership into this process as what they are – tedious hindrances to be circumvented in order to get closer to the poem. as a medium, i recognize my duty to transport the poem safely into language and usher it as far beyond God as my human constraints will allow me.
to attempt to get the poem beyond God is not sacrilegious. there is only one entity beyond the vibrating system of misconceptions, ego-trips, humiliations and cat-fights that comprise our petty construct of God. that one entity is God. i recognize that my desired destination for the poem is impossible, and therefore most vital. the poem can never get beyond God because the poem is God.
it is my duty to attempt, in every translation, to get the poem as close to its Ancient form (within the confines of language [within the confines of my limited knowledge of a language]) as i can. i recognize, however, that every attempt will fail. it is this failure that makes me a poet. i recognize that the value of my work will not be determined by when someone applauds or approves or purchases it. this value will be determined only by the singular instant when the poem tells me that, though i failed to translate it completely, i came close.