My in risible universe youdly haud find
Sulch oxtrabeeforeness meat soveal behind.
Your feats end enormous, your volumes immense,
(May the Graces I hoped for sing your Ondtship song sense!),
Your genus its worldwide, your spacest sublime!
But, Holy Saltmartin, why can’t you beat time?

In the name of the former and of the latter and of their holocaust. Allmen.

Y así termina el mes de agosto, y la canción de la cigarra ( y en el nombre-del-padre-del-hijo-del-espíritu-santo:

“Por mucho que lo intenta, la hormiga no puede con el misterio del tiempo.”