Ah, now for the hour of the mourning of many, and the pleasant garlands of flowers and the tears, and the moist, dark earth. Ah, for repose down underneath the grass, where the firm feet of the trees grip hold upon the world, where never shall come the wind that now blows through my bones, and the rain shall come warm and trickling, not driven by storm, where is the easeful falling asunder of bone from bone in the dark.
The Gods of Pegana, Yun-ilara
Together with mark Twain's 'Death is a valuable Gift' quote, from his Letters from the Earth, this is one of the most moving yearning for death poems/quotes I've ever read.
It is spoken by Yun-Ilara, the one who thought himself clever when he challenged Mung, the God of Death. Yun-Ilara now is nothing but a heap of bones, lying around the ruined base of a tower that he once built, and he is still undying, and from his bones still goes up a shrill voice, crying out for mercy.
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