I Never Indulge In Rhyme Or Stanza

He Who Has Two Languages Has Two Souls.

Let No One Weep For Me, Or Celebrate My Funeral With Mourning; For I Still Live, As I Pass To And Fro Through The Mouths Of Men.

Let No One Pay Me Honor With Tears, Nor Celebrate My Funeral Rites With Weeping.

A True Friend Is Distinguished In The Crisis Of Hazard And Necessity; When The Gallantry Of His Aid May Show The Worth Of His Soul And The Loyalty Of His Heart.

Let No One Honour Me With Tears, Or Bury Me With Lamentation. Why? Because I Fly Hither And Thither, Living In The Mouths Of Me. [lat., Nemo Me Lacrymis Decoret, Nec Funera Fletu. Faxit Cur? Volito Vivu' Per Ora Virum.]