When A Man Dies, Flesh Is Frayed

The Power That Holds The Sky's Majesty Wins Our Worship.

For The Poison Of Hatred Seated Near The Heart Doubles The Burden For The One Who Suffers The Disease; He Is Burdened With His Own Sorrow, And Groans On Seeing Another's Happiness.

The Great And Amorous Sky Curved Over The Earth, And Lay Upon Her As A Pure Lover. The Rain, The Humid Flux Descending From Heaven For Both Man And Animal, For Both Thick And Strong, Germinated The Wheat, Swelled The Furrows With Fecund Mud And Brought Forth The Buds In The Orchards. And It Is I Who Empowered These Moist Espousals, I The Great Aphrodite.

But When Once The Earth Has Sucked Up A Dead Man's Blood, There Is No Way To Raise Him Up.

Long Tarries Destiny, But Comes To Those Who Pray.