When passing, stop for a moment to walk, and pay attention to the tomb of Tecmessa. It is very heavy that bluish stone which covers its feeble bones, which nearly crushes them, and stifles it in its endless sleep. Tecmessa, you will not sing for Selene anymore, you will not deposit lustral water to Isis, you will no longer carry the torch of the Lupercales. Tecmessa, in the blue horizon you have fled, in the endless azure, and sometimes I envy death that will carry me on your lugubrious shore to the hollow of your hand.