Discovery

I believe in the great discovery.
I believe in the man who will make the discovery.
I believe in the terror of the man who will make the discovery.

I believe in the pallor of his face,
the nausea, the cold sweat on his lip.

I believe in the burning of the notes,
the burning of them ashes,
the burning of every last one.

I believe in the scattering of the numbers,
the scattering of them with no regret.

I believe in the quickness of the man,
the precision of his movements,
his uncoerced free will.

I believe in the smashing of the tablets,
the pouring out of the liquids,
the extinguishing of the ray.

I assert that all will work out,
and that it will not be too late,
and that things will unfold in the absence of witnesses.

No one will find out, of that I am sure,
neither wife nor wall,
not even bird, for it may well sing.

I believe in the stayed hand,
I believe in the ruined career,
I believe in the wasted labor of many years.
I believe in the secret taken to the grave.

For me these words soar above all rules.
They seek no support in examples of any kind.
My faith is strong, blind, and without foundation.

-- Wislawa Szymborska