The Threshold

Open the door to us, and we will see the orchards,
We will drink thier cold water where the moon has left its trace.
The long road burns, hostile to strangers.
We wander without knowing and find no place.....

Before us is the door; what use for us to wish?
Better to turn away, abandoning hope.
We will never enter. We are weary of seeing it.
The door, opening, let so much silence escape.

That neither the orchards appeared nor any flower;
Only the immense space where emptiness and light are
was suddenly everywhere present, overflowed the heart,
And washed our eyes almost blind under the dust.

~Simone Weil