FLYING DEATH

Why are the answers to great tragedies, the forced answers to fateful decisions, the moral norms, the non-negotiable systems of rules, imposed on us?! Do we carry heavy burdens, rocks, shackling burdens, and even we ourselves do not really understand and know that as a Sisyphus of non-negotiable Courage, we reach the mountain of goals? 

The cracked groans of tears' pain Shiver in ghosts' pursuing eyes, And we ourselves may be but stumbling roots, Pushed and dragged by the vile mud-ground Towards deeper and deeper whirlpools! And the rest, like armies of ravenous fleas, like a starving chaos of blood-sucking leeches, at the unconditional doom-orders of envy and jealousy: they stone, they trample, and kill him who builds more successfully 

nowadays, brick by brick, his well-established life: Life, in vain, will not bargain with man, Our little blunders, our grey daily transgressions, are well laughed at from afar! - We must rise daily, though we know all our attempts are hopeless, And our arranged life may be our last: Faithless stumbling Thames, our mortality on the frying pan of our birth Has long since been measured - through the suffering biology of ourselves.

We dare not laugh at the death-consciousness, And desperate is the wolf-faced flirtation!