Chapter 9 hope

My heart is extraordinarily lonely. However, my heart is very peaceful; there is no love or hate, no sorrow, no color and sound. I'm probably getting old.My hair is already pale, isn't it a very clear thing?My hands are trembling, isn't it a very clear thing?Then the hands of my soul must have trembled too, and the hair must have turned pale. However, this was many years ago. Before this, too, my heart was full of bloody songs: blood and iron, fire and poison, recovery and revenge.And suddenly these are empty, but sometimes deliberately filled with helpless self-deceitful hope.Hope, hope, use this shield of hope to resist the attack of the dark night in emptiness, although behind the shield is still the dark night in emptiness.However, this is the case, and it has exhausted my youth one after another.

Did I not know earlier that my youth was gone?But I think the youth outside the body is fixed: stars, moonlight, dead butterflies, flowers in the dark, owls' ominous words, cuckoos crying blood, laughing vaguely, and loving soaring and dancing. ...Although it is a sad and misty youth, it is youth after all. But why is it so lonely now?Could it be that even the youth outside the body has passed away, and the youth in the world are too old? I have to let myself thin this dark night in emptiness.I lowered the shield of hope, and I heard Petofi Sandor's (1823-49) song "Hope":

What is hope?is a whore: She bewitches everyone and gives everything to; When you have sacrificed so many treasures— Your youth—she abandons you. Seventy-five years have passed since the great lyric poet, the Hungarian patriot, died on the spears of the Khazarians for his country.It is sad to die, but what is even more sad is that his poems have not died so far. But, miserable life!Unruly and brave as Petofi, he finally stopped facing the dark night and looked back at the vast east.He said: Despair is as false as hope. If I still have to secretly live in this "illusion" of ignorance and darkness, I will still seek the sad and misty youth that has passed away, but it may as well be outside of me.For as soon as the youth outside me fades away, the old age in me also fades away.

But now there are no stars and moonlight, no dead butterflies, so that the laughter is vague, and the love is dancing.But the youth are safe. I have to let my flesh thin this dark night in emptiness. Even if I can't find the youth outside of me, I have to throw away the old age in me by myself.But where is the dark night?Now there are no stars, no moonlight, no confusion of laughter and soaring dance of love; the young people are safe, and there is no real dark night in front of me. Despair is as false as hope! January 1, 1925