In cafes,in parks,in apartments,in the street,
People meet, faces talk.
Doing things,making decisions,
Yes, that occurs, occurs all the time,
But it’s the thinking about it, the discussing,
That makes it almost real.
All these abstractions, these conversations,
“He said this and I said that,”
Myriads of details disappeared...
Tragedy sells few tickets these days:
Don Juan has no chance of damnation,
No black reward for his sins.
Can it be the dead are all alike?
Collectors all, banal and jaded,
Our sufferings too light for solace,
We forget the glory, the terror.
Too long lying by the pool!
Why not jump in now and have a swim?
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