Vigil

Dying was nothing and he had no picture of it nor fear of it in his mind. But living was a field of grain blowing in the wind on the side of a hill. Living was a hawk in the sky. Living was an earthen jar of water in the dust of the threshing with the grain flailed out and the chaff blowing. Living was a horse between your legs and a carbine under ... See more

Does this not bring to mind the story of Death in Teheran? A rich and mighty Persian once walked in his garden with one of his servants. The servant cried that he had just encountered Death, who had threatened him. He begged his master to give him his fastest horse so that he could make haste and flee to Teheran, which he could reach that same even

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Allongé sur son lit de camp, il pense aux morts. Aux gens qu’il a connus dans sa vie et qui sont morts. Il commence à y en avoir beaucoup. Il pense que s’il comptait il y aurait plus de morts que de vivants mais il n’a pas le courage de compter. Il n’a pas envie de dormir non plus, seulement de rester là, de ne plus bouger. Il pense qu’il mourra lu

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And when it comes to Death, the thing we fear most is that he will undo all the progress that Life has made in one fell swoop.