It's better to die in a golden moment
While the heart gets lost into the open sky.
A few wordings will have lamented for me
along with your iced teardrops. Will you
puddle them all in a french makeup box
and preserve the memories for the next
progeny?

The mail train reached just before the dawn. The city was weeping for its old aborigines. Still, they keep out their invisible artworks across the walls, narrow streets and in the alleys. The smokes of the ancient cigars and weeds still boomerang even in this inexorable industrialization which only drags the civilization onto the hopeless realm. A realm that secretly mingled with west and east. An eyewash civilization of organized faith! Organized looting and organized banditry!