Only Against Death Does Man Cry Out

The Howling Pariah Dogs, The Cocks That Herald Dawn All Night, The Drumming, The Moaning That Will Be Found Later White Plumage Huddled On Telegraph Wires In Back Gardens Or Fowl Roosting In Apple Trees, The Eternal Sorrow That Never Sleeps Of Great Mexico.

God, How Pointless And Empty The World Is! Days Filled With Cheap And Tarnished Moments Succeed Each Other, Restless And Haunted Nights Follow In Bitter Routine: The Sun Shines Without Brightness, And The Moon Rises Without Light. My Heart Has The Taste Of Ashes, And My Throat Is Tight And Weary With Weeping. What Is A Lost Soul? It Is One That Has Turned From Its True Path And Is Groping In The Darkness Of Remembered Ways—

How, Unless You Drink As I Do, Could You Hope To Understand The Beauty Of An Old Indian Woman Playing Dominoes With A Chicken?

Only Against Death Does Man Cry Out In Vain.

How Alike Are The Groans Of Love To Those Of The Dying.