California Alcohol Permit

Twenty-February 2 / In my room I know I'm the only one of the nation's human to think really buried all sleeping, all my children. I am the crazy mom, mother ephemeral, that underground population, I am, absurd censer, censer the deaths of all the earth, I am the only friend of the dead land, and when this poor me will not be there but on the ground, it will be left no one to love them, these poor dead clay , dressed in skinny poor who sleep on their land, breathe and sleep and never laugh but in silence with their heads dry yellow melancholy of the other world, poignant in their abandonment. Dead, my dear, you are alone.
Albert Cohen - 1978 Travel

(cemetery of Marche-lez-Ecaussinnes)