by Luigi Pirandello (trans by Arthur D Vieli)1867-1936
Without doing anything a lion is a lion: but hapless man must brave death to have the honor of being compared with that animal, strong, without limit. Nourished by the soaring thoughts of an afflicted soul, if one reaches an apex. A grand prize awaits. Then it is said you truly fly like an eagle. Write a sublime poem, that sinks in silken rhyme of your innermost intense feelings and they say you'll sing like a nightingale. What must a man do to not be likened to an animal? can he simply do nothing? without feeling anxious or troubled? People would then take him for a jackass.