We don’t know what you are, my dear –we don’t know why you’re here.
And least of all have we the least idea
what you are thinking. Are you contemplating
randomness? Sinking into warm despair?
Is life too much a mess to care?Your private calculations leave us
outside your domain. And yet we shall remain.
Nothing is that bleak. We haven’t anywhere
to go ourselves: Before long you will speak.