Chapter 27 happy dead

On the fertile soil crawling with snails, I'll dig a deep hole myself, Allow me to stretch my old bones leisurely, And sleep in oblivion like a white shark in the waves I hate the will, and I hate the tomb; Instead of begging the world for tears to live, i would rather invite crows Suck dry every filthy husk. Maggots!Earless and eyeless black companion, look!The free and happy dead come to you, Philosophers of pleasure, offspring of corruption, walk through my wreckage without guilt, And tell me, among the dead, this Does the dead soulless old man still suffer!