But don’t leave me, delicate mind!
Don’t let me go crazy.
Sweet wounded reason, don’t
leave me now.
Don’t leave me. Let me die, without fear,
a clean lovely death, like Empedocles, who smiled as he fell
into the crater.”
— Miklós Radnóti, “Maybe …,” Clouded Sky. ( Sheep Meadow; Revised edition August 1, 2003)Miklós Radnóti — The Vale of Soul-Making