We who mourn for them Falling always first Soil covered by ruins Small panic-stricken steps Our bodies An imitation of first Man Crawling through dead lands Lost in their sick thoughts In vain Old land, no more lies I've seen you with my eyes The ravening "The course of my life has brought me now Through a stormy sea, in a frail ship To the common port where, landing We account for every deed, wretched or holy So that finally I see How wrong the fond illusion was That made art my idol and my King Leading me to want what harmed me My amorous fancies, once foolish and happy What sense have they now that I approach two deaths The first of which I know is sure,the second threatening" (On The Brink Of Death - Michelangelo Buonarroti)