No paper. No papyrus I can fetch. Your foliated skin is falling like autumn leaves and eukeratin from your hair in my inkpot. Should I start composing on the road of your ending or mine? - Don't waste your coming spring for me. I, myself left those for your verses... You ... - Hey stop! We will start living together, you said na, dying is living? - Na, today is my day to die. You will write eulogy. - Let's keep the work of composing verses on the hand of the greatest Composer. We will be rhyming in couplets in that eulogy.
