Leviathan

This is no country for old men, for those whose time is gone. I was brought up on the land and lived here as the great fish does in the sea, unknowingly, imagining-wrongly, as it turns out-that things would carry on forever. I am the last one here, all those dying generations at their song. I should have listened harder. The days are wasted, the idol of the days...

Forgive me, I was not myself.

All of that happened a long time ago. I was someone else then. You gather, from the great importance I place on what is spoken, the human voice that doesn't change with time or betray you, the way hands or the eyes do, you gather that what is said cannot be unsaid, and is out there in the world. Now, tell me Majnun, those words that are close to your heart.

I thought I could remember you off by heart, take you in, but I got to the first three letters and halted. My tongue was dry. What kind of dream is this? I have only to look this way, tilt my head at a certain angle and the whole world appears empty. I remember. And that sense of us being but small flickering lights in a dark sky has always stayed with us.

Summon some words..how few words we have today! I sit at my room and look out of the window

'Or watch the sad increase
Across the mind...

When the street
Darkens. Among the rain and stone places
I find only an ancient sadness falling...

{Each person dies alone]

And in their blazing solitude...

Having one simple fall
As a candle-flame swells, and is thinned...
the shape of loss.'

In the last days wolves will speak as sheep and no-one will recognize anyone else, no-one will take another's word. Each man will be divided against the other, and against himself. Men in hats will speak with false tongue but when the world ends there will be no tending to what is important and their hats will fly off their pointed heads.

'The storm is here, the savage seas hop
On land and crash thick dams' 

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Russian