The song of living resounds of the dying,
repetition of prized lies and pride,
and all is an alliance of eternity and endings.
Contradictions crease every corner;
death cries out as the echo of every birth,
as in every act of passion.
Life is most present when it’s almost broken;
living is the most thrilling quest
when the grail is hidden near danger,
The most searing life is the one soon extinguished,
struck down by the fearless and sure hunter,
beast who feels no thrill,
a beast of nothing but its hunger;
life is a feast,
if nothing but a fleeting leaping thing.