day 57

come, the merry messengers,
whose letters undelivered, they don't care, but with tipsy-mugs of foamy-ale
they cheered the Sunday and slapped the asses
'Ecce, convertimur ad gentes';
from earth to hell, mere passengers.

go, the petty pilgrims,
whose filthy loins, they don't care, but with jovial-costumes and jester-masks
they cheered the monuments and kissed the relics
A tomb for all, a sainthood purchased;
from heaven to earth, mere Grimm's.

donkeys and fowls, domesticated animals of various shapes and sizes.
think not the cruel acts, think so fully of ourselves.
monkeys and fools, human masters of various sins and sundries.
think not the passions, act so fully of ourselves.

we live so full. so full. so full.
we think so high. so high. so high.
we want to be free. be free. free.
we then hate. only hate. not love. we hate.

don't say we love our neighbours.
we only threaten them. (and whip them)

(feuerbach)