“Jackals cry in chorus from the courtyard of the deserted house in the light of the worn-out moon.
“If some wanderer, leaving home, come here to watch the night and with bowed head listen to the murmur of the darkness, who is there to whisper the secrets of life into his ears if I, shutting my doors, should try to free myself from mortal bonds?
“It is trifle that my hair is turning grey.
“I am ever as young or as old as the youngest and the oldest of this village.
“Some have smiles, sweet and simple, and some have a sly twinkle in their eyes.
“Some have tears that well up in the daylight, and others tears that are hidden in the gloom.