Forward from: Diary of an Underground Ronin
"For man is a skinfull of wine
But his soul is a hole full of God
And the song of all time blows thru him
As winds thru a knot-holed board. Tho man be a skin full of wine
Yet his heart is a little child
That croucheth low beneath the wind
When the God-storm battereth wild."
— Ezra Pound
But his soul is a hole full of God
And the song of all time blows thru him
As winds thru a knot-holed board. Tho man be a skin full of wine
Yet his heart is a little child
That croucheth low beneath the wind
When the God-storm battereth wild."
— Ezra Pound