❝ To all of you who do not think,

This world is wondrous, glorious and grand,

I say to you, is our gift of words,

Not lavish, not abundant

Not satisfactory for you to stay happy?

Oh, what a brilliant plan of ours.

To fill such unimportant symbols with worth.

To proclaim our thoughts in twists and turns of our mouths.

But how unlucky, that our lot is of a capricious kind.

For all our faith in this absurd lingo,

Our world overlooks uncanny parts of this talk.

Our nouns hold on, most faulty.

And our pluralization is simply not right.

But still,

All things our mouths can say,

shock us fairly unduly.

For a human can attain a triumph as absurd as

Composing a hymn, rubbish though it is,

Without at any point, using a sign, 

as common a sign as 'e'.❞