Subject: A gaze of a particle

Joãozinho saiu de casa e foi na biblioteca. Lá, achou um livro e abriu em alguma página, onde o texto era como uma poesia:

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There is a pussy-willow
Flying by the wind, over a meadow
Delighted by the yellow sun
In a sweaty afternoon

The wind still beats toward the flowers
And more willows are glowing
More and more come
Joining a thread of white cotton-like smooth little balls

So, to what does Descartes belong within those thoughts ? - Asks the mathematician
The nature responds its way:
The wind blows, the sun shines, the nature lives.. as you keep yourself remembering, all becomes somekind of handleable since there is a percepttion of what it really is, in its essence, but in your mind, and only there.

So, René tells:
- Oui, Monsieur! C'est une maladie en la vie.. la connaissance n'est pas votre ami pour le jour encore. Pour les moments, la conaissance est solement une modalité: une heure est sensation, en outre, perception.

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