Ars longa, vita brevis.

As if ten thousand hours could be done in eight days,

two lovers’ rendezvous would then commonplace

find in the perfection of the Art. Hippocrates’ says,

as the Germans also imply, that the natural case

for nurture, love, and remedy decry

the inept or hasty, trying icarian flight.

But when I glance this work of ours, tied

in knots, in beds at a cantered pace,

I think not of the Hellenic scene at great length

nor of die Arzte, at any rate. Our love is blunt,

like specula or tyndaller, and with strength

like hypertrophy, a taut tachycardic stunt.

   In our courage we will drive the rest:

   Ars longa, vita brevis.

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