To see was terrifying, and to stop seeing tore me apart from my forehead to my throat.
“Korè my heart is, let it stand sans gloze!
Love’s pain is long, and lo, love’s joy is brief!
My heart erst alway sweet is bitter grown;
As crimson ruleth in the good green’s stead,
So grief hath taken all mine old joy’s share
And driven forth my solace and all ease
Where pleasure bows to all-usurping pain.”
Ezra Pound | “Canzon: The Yearly Slain”