The End of Epode

Friends we were, once, they say, a withered word, like fragrant rose decay. Advancing age hath banished them away, who changed can only mung my kindred stay. For friends I wait, both day and night attend, for the new friends, oh come, the times at hand. We celebrate, now sure of conquering might, the grandest lustre, the guest of guests arrived, friend Zarathustra. The world now smiles, rent is the veil of night, the marriage of the darkness and the light. End of Epode End of, beyond good and evil, prelude to a philosophy of the future.