From: Edison 

    Life is but once and then there is dark night
    we are dying in the ruins of light
    like day-flies, like a flash of lightning 
    And now the sky beyond the trees is brightening
    electric wires tremble in the snow
    now promenades and corsos are aglow
    now our souls are viewed on the X-ray screen
    like ichthyosauri from the pliocene
    now the clock's hand is moving towards six
    now we go off together to the flicks
    now spectral shades of gamblers and of witches
    are put to flight by our electric switches
    and now applause and cheers ring through the house
    and Thomas Edison now takes his bows 

    The party's over now your soul is dark
    the guests have left and you are back at work
    Look at those inventors and at their resources
    yet the stars have not deviated from their courses
    look at all those people living quietly
    no this isn't work nor even energy
    this is adventure as on the high seas
    locking oneself in one's laboratories
    look at all those people living quietly
    no this isn't work it's poetry
    It's intention and a bit of accident
    to become one's country's president
    to become a poet who's outstripped you all
    to become a songbird holding you in thrall
    to be always lucky at roulette
    to be the discoverer of a new planet 
    A thousand apples have dropped in profusion
    but only Newton drew the right conclusion
    A thousand people have had epileptic seizures
    Saint Paul alone had his converting vision
    A thousand nameless deaf have sought a haven
    but only one of them was Beethoven
    A thousand madmen have considered ways
    but only Nero could set Rome ablaze
    A thousand inventions come to us each season
    but only one of them was that of Edison