O, you hard-hearted adamant, the owner of my tiny life-house, an irresponsible parent me the devoted infant both nurtures and abandons, explain why these lips and mouth mean not language's true agent and dry for their twins and faint. Your perfumed shrine with incense I do come every night so as to I take it home. Yet still you stand like the maid you once turned alive. No answer is given to the question of mine. Fine. I'll speak your tongue right to your tongue until you humbly seal my question with your arms. -- you hard-hearted adamant: Cf. William Shakespeare, "A Midsummer Night's Dream"

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