Tham

Drink.

Always be drunk. Therein lies everything: it’s all that matters.

So as not to feel the dread burden of time breaking your shoulders and crushing you to the earth, never stop drinking.

But what? Whether wine, poetry or virtue, the choice is yours. Whatever: get drunk.

And if sometimes, on the palace steps, in the gutter’s green grass, or in the maudlin solitude of your room, you wake up, and the drunken haze has dwindled or gone, then ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock; ask everything that flees, everything that groans, everything that moves, everything that sings, everything that speaks: ask them what time it is.

And the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, and the clock will all reply:

“It is the drinking hour”.

To escape the fate of those tormented slaves of time, get drunk.

Drink deep, never ceasing.

Whether wine, poetry, or virtue, the choice is yours.