A fatal beauty raped by death It was then that I spotted Strindberg's ghost and old Ingmar Bergman Supping together at one table, Adjacent to mine. You could've trapped it neatly In a celluloid frame. I sleep in the bed where you Breathed your last. Go see it , Stop disturbing the old and the dead. In the frail humane voice of the actor, Truth as Strindberg learned, And in vast despair, Boom on and on.
Man has no children, Only woman has children.
While we die childless, O' Jesus meek and mild, Look upon this little child. Strindberg, you trap forty years of a disorderly life Into a dimlit rectangle for two full hours. I sense it throbbing. I sense it's tumultuous throb. At this darkend auditorium, Oceans and oceans away, I remember my wife, my son.