For with the capture of conscious
arrived the moment that could not:

"Sotte!"

There is nothing ampler,
as I attain the gate of nothing's end,
and there is yet another.

More…
How closer I obtain.
How close to center I go
before the people must say as so?

And so further
as so many did
in nothing to remember.

X

"More?!"
In an extensive tone,
"You now leave this endless entrance.

Sotte!"
vainly using my name.

Such magnanimity
towards such inability
to define my last impression.

X

"Do not speak.
We defect.
We find in us directly,
...far outside,
...and then behind,
cannot tell each other why.

…There it is!

Necessity to know more."

X

"Do not speak?!
I have no motive but reason."

X

"We,
so far from successor,
consider always reason.

The matter before us:
More than one's known cost."

X

"Hear me now
as I append
your destructive last history of language:

The World,
The Center from the Universe of Time
in everyone since Then butt Time,
is a mere way to know the past or future
in the most universal sense;
and I want not anything of life
but Now."

X

Time, Now
has hit upon

The input: infinite.

And

The word: endue.

X

"Wider, not so far
as I take me about the center,
put forward there
before people think what to speak,
who tried all this,
there is nothing which they would mean.

With all, one ought;
With all that is,
It has to do
…Supra.

And
Desire reads – 'Sotte.'"