Joy is a trick in the air, pleasure is merely contemptible, But limitary pain- the rock under the tower and the hewn coping That takes thunder at the head of the turret- Terrible and real. Therefore a mindless dervish carving himself With knives will seem to have conguered the world.
The world's God is treacherous and full of unreason, A torturer. Who fights him eats his own flesh and perishes of hunger; who hides in the grave To escape him is dead; who enter the Indian Recession to escape him is dead; who falls in love with the God is washed clean Of death desired, and of death dreaded.
(However I suppose few in the world have energy to hear effectively- Have paid my birth-dues; am quits with the people.)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
