A foreigner in a foreign land, Oedipus thus takes himself toward a place of hiding (clandestinité). A sort of illegal (clandestin) immigrant, he will be con- cealed there in death: buried, interred, carried in se- cret in the night of a crypt. He reverses the roles by himself, the blind one, leading his daughters and Theseus. But he is himself guided by Hermes and the goddess of the Underworld: Yes, it is this way that I am led by the guiding Hermes and the goddess of the lower world. Lightless light [0 phoos aphegge], before you were mine for a long time, and now for the last time my body feels you. (1547-S0) We listen to him, the blind man, the sightless for- eigner, the foreigner outside the law who wants still to keep a right of regard over his last dwelling place. We hear him, this foreigner, this stranger, uttering his complaint strangely. What is his grievance? What about his mourning? Why this final mourning? Like a dying person ritu- alistically saying farewell to the light of day (for if we are born seeing the day, we die ceasing to see the day), he weeps, he too, the blind one, deplores hav- ing soon to be deprived of the day. But here com- plaining of having to lose the light of a day that will never have been his own, the blind man weeps for a tangible light, a light caressed, a caressing sun. The day touched him, he was in contact with it, this light both tangible and touching. A warmth touched him invisibly. What he is going to be deprived of in secrecy, at the moment of this encrypting, of this en- crypting of encrypting, at the moment when he is…