Barthold Heinrich Brockes (1680–1747) was a German poet and a Hamburg councillor. Looking at a cut diamond, he finds two words close in sound and far apart in meaning. In German, “Glut” and “Flut”, blaze and flood, fit into a single tiny corner.
What sets the eye in motion
A glance takes in a bright stone. Brockes attends to each polished face. According to the way light strikes one of these little tables, it seems to burn or flow within. Halfway through the stanza the language itself acquires the quickness of the light.
The ornament of every precious stone
is the bright diamond.
With wonder and desire
we gaze upon its pure fire.
Within its neatly polished corners
both blaze and flood seem lodged,
as in a thousand ways the light
breaks upon its facets.[1]
A second look at brilliance
Before the diamond stanza Brockes asks what would happen if a stone lost its hardness and smoothness. For him both a suitable surface and sunlight contribute to brilliance. Their dependence on each other can itself be a reason to give thanks to the creator.