"The beauty of nature is suspect.
Oh yes, the splendor of flowers.
Science is concerned to deprive us of illusions.
Though why it is eager to do so is unclear.
The battle among genes, traits that secure success, gains and losses.
My God, what language do these people speak?
In their white coats, Charles Darwin
At least had pangs of conscience
Making public a theory, that was as he said, devilish.
And they? It was, after all, their idea:
To segregate rats in separate cages.
To segregate humans, write off as a genetic loss
Some of their own species and poison them.
“The pride of the peacock is the glory of God,”
Wrote William Blake. There was a time
When disinterested beauty by its shear superabundance
Gratified our eyes. What have they left us?
Only the accountancy of a capitalist enterprise."
“Scientists”, by Czeslaw Milosz
I’m still processing this poem. I think I will be for awhile. It’s beautiful but I’m hesitant to reduce things into thinking I understand it all.
threeacresandacrow reblogged this from invicemsunt