FAREWELL TO HARLEQUIN

Slowly, my memories of peace and tranquillity, which I once clung to with violence and convulsion, are leaving me, slowly, black birds with the smell of executioners are cawing ominously and cynically above me. Slowly, a deep vibrating cello sonata sound, or Jericho trombone, fades away within me.

Gradually, a host of daily, Sisyphean troubles, petty-piteous little trials of Life's capital letter, Surround me, storms of yell-power Come on my head again; perhaps I can scarce find Calming, will-power, desire to do On the One-Cat's side, who helps me to bear, endure. Soon the optician will put a Dosahedron on my head for my new dioptric glasses.

The love of All-ness, which once was so good to feel, like the nectar-meat of juicy, tender fruits, The power of Existence-enhancing metabolisms, slowly slowly fades away in me. The honey-collecting bee was the romance and desire that once filled me. The crystal clear memory lives in me, mischievous and crouching, like the comforting smile of the Dear Saint.

Autumn knocks on my crisp, old-aged limbs, then comes the pessimism-infested Winter of passing, when I must remember more and more of the dead. It is time for me to shake everything off, to create the seeds of my selfish, stubborn happiness, so that in the hours of the Existence-alkony I may look back and feel that I too had the right to be happy and content!

Later will come, in turn, with the time of feelings, the pangs of conscience of regrets, some of them Later will come in turn, with the time of feelings, the pangs of conscience of regrets, Some silly hundred lines of verse will still remember me faithfully, And perhaps there will be one or two who, searching their memories, Will weep over me some expressive pearl of truth!