This Before the End of All

The meditation of yesterday
Has filled my mind with so many doubts
That it is no longer in my power to forget them
And yet I do not resolve them
As though I have suddenly fallen into very deep water

And I can neither put my feet firmly down on the bottom
Or swim to keep myself on the surface
I make an effort nethertheless
To follow the same path upon which I entered yesterday
Just as if I knew that it was absolutely false

And I shall continue always on this path
And I can do nothing else
I can do nothing else
Until I have encountered something which is certain
That there is nothing certain in the world
That we are false

All things I see are false
I persuade myself that none of those things ever existed
My deceptive memory represents to me
I have no senses
Body, figure, extension
Are only fictions of my mind

What then shall be considered true?
Perhaps only this
That there is nothing certain in the world