To Edmund Clarish Hu Bentley A dark cloud rests over people's hearts, and the wind howls past, Yes, when we were boys together, a sick cloud hovered over the soul. Science preaches nothingness and art glorifies decay; The old world is over: but you and I are happy; Their villainous deeds full of loopholes comically surround us—— Lust has lost its laughter, fear its shame. Like Whistler's white hair that illuminates our melancholy moods that have nowhere to vent. Men display their own white feathers as proudly as a beautiful plume. Life is a faded fly, and death a stinging drone;

The world was actually very old when you and I were young. They even weave decent vices into nameless shapes: People are ashamed of glory, but we are not ashamed. Even if we're weak and stupid, we don't fail because of it, no; When the black sun god blocks heaven we won't sing his hymns We are children - our castles of sand are fragile even as we are, They tower high and we stack them to break through the sea of ​​bitterness. We are all kinds of fools, irritating and absurd, When all the church bells are silent our bell caps are heard. Not quite helpless we held the castle, and unfurled our little banners;

Some giants toil in the cloud to remove it from the world. I find the book we found again, and I feel this moment Throwing far off the fish-shaped Pamanok the cry of the clean; And the green carnations wither, as in a forest fire passing through, Roaring in the wind of ten million blades of grass all over the world; Or sober, sweet and sudden as a bird singing in the rain— Truth speaks from Tusitara, joy speaks from pain. Yes, calm, clear and sudden like a bird that sings when bored, Dunydin speaks to Samoa, darkness speaks to day. But we are young; we live to see God break the spell of their pain.

God and the noble republic ride back with arms: We saw the city of al-Mansour, though it was a bit wobbly, reassured— Blessed are those who have not seen, who believe though they are blind. It's a story about those old fears, even about those emptied hells, Only you can understand the truth it tells— About how the great god of shame terrorizes and destroys people. About how gigantic demons shaded the stars, only to capsize with a pistol shot. Doubt is clear and easy to drive away, but it is too terrifying to resist-- Oh, who can understand but you; yes, who can understand? As we two talked vehemently doubts drove us through the night,

The sudden arrival of day on the street is like a sudden enlightenment to our minds. By the peace of God, this truth can now be told among us; Yes, to take root requires strength, and to grow old is to do good. At last we found commonplace things and marriage and a creed, Now I can safely write, and you can safely read.

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