Proud bones such as yours the world finds rare;
These are the crags of a true eccentric.
You wield your brush like a roof beam, propelled by wine;
From out your bosom pour rugged rocks.

He who wants to do good knocks at the gate; he who loves finds the gate open.

Proud bones such as yours the world finds rare;
These are the crags of a true eccentric.
You wield your brush like a roof beam, propelled by wine;
From out your bosom pour rugged rocks.

To disappear into deep water or to disappear toward a far horizon, to become part of depth of infinity, such is the destiny of man that finds its image in the destiny of water.

He who is too busy doing good finds no time to be good.