Voici mon cadeau, pas roses sur votre tombe, pas btons d'encens brlant. Tu as vcu distance, maintenant l'extrmit votre ddain magnifique. Tu as bu du vin, et as dit les plaisanteries les plus pleines d'esprit, et as suffoqu les murs suffocants intrieurs. Tu seul as laiss l'tranger terrible dedans, et rest avec son seul.
Maintenant tu es all, et personne ne dit un mot au sujet de votre vie proccupe et exalte. Seulement ma voix, comme une cannelure, pleurera votre rgal funbre sourd-muet. Ah, qui aurait os croient qu'I moiti-fou, I, en difficult avec peine pour enterr au del, I, smoldering sur un feu lent, ayant perdu tout et oubli tous, serait destin pour commmorer un homme ainsi compltement de force et de volont et d'inventions lumineuses, qui seulement hier elle semble, caus avec moi, cachant le tremblement de sa douleur mortelle.
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