The Universal Set

By PEDRO POITEVIN
Translated by PHILIP NIKOLAYEV

I am myself a member of myself
and every time I search within I find
another me, mysteriously aligned,
and in that replica wherein I delve

there dwells another, and another yet,
ellipsis dots: a mammoth nesting doll
that both contains itself, containing all,
and self-inhabits, the set of all sets.

I am the madness of the grand design,
I am the limit of where reason goes,
I am the science behind metascience.

The endless universe of sets is mine,
and this includes the cheeky set of those
denying my existence in defiance.

 

[Purchase Issue 30 here.]

 

Pedro Poitevin, a bilingual poet, translator, and mathematician originally from Guatemala, is the author of six books of poetry. His work has appeared in Rattle, River Styx, The Mathematical Intelligencer, and Nimrod, among other publications. In 2022, he received the Juana Goergen Poetry Prize, and in 2025, the Premio Internacional de Literatura Palindrómica Rever. 

Philip Nikolayev is a poet living in Boston, raised in Moldova. He translates poetry from French, Romanian, Ukrainian, Hindi, Urdu, and Sanskrit. His collections include Monkey Time and Letters from Aldenderry. His collection of poems in Spanish translation by Willy Ramírez and Pedro Poitevin, Un poeta desde el balcón, has been published in Latin America.

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

The Universal Set

Related Posts

Sasha Burshteyn: Poems

SASHA BURSHTEYN
The slagheap dominates / the landscape. A new kurgan / for a new age. High grave, waste mound. / To think of life / among the mountains— / that clean, clear air— / and realize that you’ve been breathing / shit. Plant trees / around the spoil tip! Appreciate / the unnatural charm! Green fold, / gray pile.

New York City skyline

Lawrence Joseph: New Poems

JOSEPH LAWRENCE
what we do is // precise and limited, according to / the Minister of Defense, // the President / is drawing a line, // the President is drawing / a red line, we don’t want to see 

rebecca on a dock at sunset

Late Orison

REBECCA FOUST
You & I will grow old, Love, / we have grown old. But this last chance // in our late decades could be like the Pleiades, winter stars seen by / Sappho, Hesiod & Galileo & now by you & me.