A closing word

What is it to be a man? Is it to be romantic? Fueling its own nostalgia With dreams of death in battle Submitting its body to hard privations Gaining the curse of martyrdom Leaving this world in a blind and passionate fashion In the arms of a consuming mistress Stupidly jumping off the schlafen berg Dying on a piano, of an unexpected but inevitable sickness With a still dripping quill in the left hand Depicting unbalanced emotions in sheet music A deforming lens Aimed at a small fraction of the human catalogue Or, in the case of our contemporaries Depicting a long over exploited duality between good and evil As if the choice was a puzzling dilemma Attacking a God, killed over three centuries ago Counter facing the camera you borrowed money to pay for Implying references to esoteric Delphies Creating a non existing mystery around oneself What is it to be a woman? Being sad on a beach? A long monologue glorifying impossible loves Smoking cigarettes with boredom Enacting its own death in a car accident Maybe quit it all at 27 Impressing some naive teenagers Who can’t but think that suffering is deep Clearly, there must be some other themes Who please both to mind and body While petitioning for genius and greatness Maybe give a listen to Fauré and Bach To the Greeks, Mill, and ironically, the great Goethe They are all brilliant men who worked hard … Still, they can’t be placed above manly affairs Because, concerning those, no one ever saw nor heard They remain interesting as photographs Which depict some of many human features