I do not know what to do, my mind's in two.
Builders, raise the ceiling high, Raise the dome into the sky, Hear the wedding song! For the happy groom is near, Tall as Mars, and statelier, Hear the wedding song!
Raise high the roof-beam, carpenters. Like Ares comes the bridegroom, taller far than a tall man.
Death is an ill; 'tis thus the Gods decide: / For had death been a boon, the Gods had died.
No honey for me, if it comes with a bee.
Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us