I am a forest, and a night of dark trees: but he who is not afraid of my darkness, will find banks full of roses under my cypresses.
Thus Spoke Zarathustra
You on a slave block
And the unreal bought
You. Now I keep coming to your owner
"This one is mine."
You often overhear us talking
And this can make your heart leap
I will not let sadness
I will gladly borrow all the gold
To get you