Sing we for love and idleness, <br />Naught else is worth the having. <br /> <br />Though I have been in many a land, <br />There is naught else in living. <br /> <br />And I would rather have my sweet, <br />Though rose-leaves die of grieving, <br /> <br />Than do high deeds in Hungary <br />To pass all men's believing.<br /><br />Ezra Pound<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-immorality/
