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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395844" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>At The Other End Of The Telescope</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">the people are very small and shrink,<br>dwarves on the way to netsuke hell<br>bound for a flea circus in full<br>retreat toward sub-atomic particles--<br> difficult to keep in focus, the figures<br>at that end are nearly indistinguishable,<br>generals at the heads of minute armies<br>differing little from fishwives,<br>emperors the same as eskimos<br>huddled under improvisations of snow--<br> eskimos, though, now have the advantage,<br>for it seems to be freezing there, a climate<br>which might explain the population's<br>outré dress, their period costumes<br>of felt and silk and eiderdown,<br>their fur concoctions stuffed with straw<br>held in place with flexible strips of bark,<br>and all to no avail, the midgets forever<br>stamping their match-stick feet,<br>blowing on the numb flagella of their fingers--<br> but wait, bring a light, clean the lens....<br>can it be those shivering arms are waving,<br>are trying to attract attention, hailing you?<br>seen from the other end of the telescope,<br>your eye must appear enormous,<br>must fill the sky like a sun,<br>and as you occupy their tiny heads<br>naturally they wish to communicate,<br>to tell you of their diminishing perspective--<br> yes, look again, their hands are cupped<br>around the pinholes of their mouths,<br>their faces are swollen, red with effort;<br>why, they're screaming fit to burst,<br>though what they say is anybody's guess,<br>it is next to impossible to hear them,<br>and most of them speak languages<br>for which no Rosetta stone can be found--<br> but listen harder, use your imagination....<br>the people at the other end of the telescope,<br>are they trying to tell you their names?<br>yes, surely that must be it, their names<br>and those of those they love, and possibly<br>something else, some of them.... listen....<br>the largest are struggling to explain<br>what befell them, how it happened<br>that they woke one morning as if adrift,<br>their moorings cut in the night,<br>and were swept out over the horizon,<br>borne on an ebbing tide and soon<br>to be discernible only as distance,<br>collapsed into mirage, made to become<br>legendary creatures now off every map.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Bradley">George Bradley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395844" data-title="At The Other End Of The Telescope de George Bradley" data-description="the people are very small and shrink,
dwarves on the way to netsuke hell
bound for a flea circus in full
retreat toward sub-atomic particles--
 difficult to keep in focus, the figures
at that end are nearly indistinguishable,
generals at the heads..."></div>
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