Sunday, 11 September 2011

Μελλοντα ταυτα

Not on sad Stygian shore, nor in clear sheen

Of far Elysian plain, shall we meet those

Among the dead whose pupils we have been,

Nor those great shades whom we have held as foes;

No meadow of asphodel our feet shall tread,

Nor shall we look each other in the face

To love or hate each other being dead,

Hoping some praise, or fearing some disgrace.

We shall not argue saying "'Twas thus" or "Thus,"

Our argument's whole drift we shall forget;

Who's right, who's wrong, 'twill be all one to us;

We shall not even know that we have met.

Yet meet we shall, and part, and meet again,

Where dead men meet, on lips of living men.

- Samuel Butler

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