Når en lort kommer til ære, vet den ikke hvor den vil være... Som at alle vil store væra, ingen vil sekken bæra.

Poor people !
Why ?
Most be something wrong in our society.

To fair Fidele`s grassy tomb
Soft maids and village hinds shall bring
Each opening sweet of earliest bloom,
And rifle all the breathing spring.


Those who have courage to love the world,
should have courage to suffer...