You give, you scatter gifts, you need to give,But your gift was given by Him, like all;And it is a Nothing, the gift of No one;I feign receiving;I thank you, sincerely grateful;But the weak, fleeting smileIs born not of shyness;It is the dismay, more terrible, far more terrible,Of having a separate body, in the realms of being—If it is a sin,If it’s not simply an accident; but in place of the OtherFor me there is a void in the cosmos,A void in the cosmos,And from there, you sing.Pier Paolo Pasolini - “Timor di me?”—“Fear for me?”(ποιήμα γραμμένο για την Μαρία Κάλλας)