Reading “Mother Night” by Vonnegut,
and the title strikes funny.
So, I dug and found that
Goethe wrote in Faust:
“I am a part of the part
that at first was all,
part of the darkness
that gave birth to the light,
that supercilious light
which now disputes with
Mother Night
her ancient rank and space,
and yet cannot succeed;
no matter how it struggles,
it sticks to matter
and can’t get free.
Light flows from substance,
makes it beautiful…”
Mother Night and the supercilious light
will come together one day.
Something about the end of it all,
or a hope for a beautiful finale.
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