“Poetry, however, appears as the endpoint of a movement which remolds the sensible in order to signify it. Poetry is the supreme art; preserving from the sensible only the sound that disappears as soon as it is emitted, sublating the elaboration of the world of sounds in music, poetry is the originary light of the world, because it says and narrates the world. Poetry also says the ‘I’ who narrates and who, first thrust into his narrative with epic poetry, reflects upon himself in lyric poetry and who, with dramatic poetry, is placed within the frame of his world. But if poetry is the apex of art, it is also the sign of its decline. It is complete in the double sense of the term. The negation of the sensible is almost too complete so that there is still art and already pure signification; sense as sense, that is, philosophy, shines trhough. What therefore is art if there is no ineffable sense, no independent language?”