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