Jan Neruda

“ Heal the cut of one sore wounded, that he will not die?”
“Open wounds on human bodies are not easily closed,
Only the juice of witches’ herb heals beneath the sky.”
“Tell me, granny, granny dearest, what will ease the pain,
Heal the pain of one sore tortured, wounds on head and brow?” ”

“ The world’s poor knowledge, it will fade,
Like any white rose that doth blow.
And so the thought of death should not
Stab our poor weary human heart.
We live, and outlive, ’tis our lot
Examples to be, ’tis our part. ”