I sat next to Death In a ***** and dark barn. "Take a swig of *** And taste the smoke, brother. I'm cooking humans, Like pine-nuts, in the cauldron. "
She said, smoking a pipe. "In the dry and gray wilderness Called 'life' I got them; They are, like oysters, food: The shells of flesh houses Tasteless and slimy mucus,
The watery rheum of the soul, That some God in there sneezed. " "But such oysters have no pearls?" My ambition asked. "Nearly all, not" Death, Chewing, belched:
“But the heart of some Rots and inflammates in strange islands: The dreams, the fantasies, The most durable daughters of the soul; But even such diamonds I break And eat like peas porridge."
And at that I rose disturbed By Death, who I could not trust And went about my way. "Come back soon, dear oyster." Called the woman enrobed, "For Death finds all, eventually."