Fragment from Democritus & Heraclitus
When the flash shot through the last layers of cloud (noiseless) all the inhabitants
of the earth described it the same at the same time: Golden rush of fire. From here
only a handful of our people saw the flicker. The recordings of those last words—
Golden rush of fire—came later and later still as echoes from the void. Meaningless.
Like that earth we can see no more. After its usual investigation the Hon. Council
of the Learned pronounced: the wise finally agree—as poetry it was not worth it.