Based on "A Dialogue between the Soul and Body" by Andrew MarvellSOUL: Oh, who can from this bear releaseA flowered soul who knows no peace?This meaty hand, this bulging arm,This weedy face which knows no charm,This hairy foot, this eye that leers,This mottled nose, protruding ears:A prison grown large to restrainThis sweet and simple, gentle brainWhich longs with every coarse heartbeatSurroundings dainty and petite.BODY: Who says that I'm some jail. In Rome there was no Sunday shopping, with a few exceptions, as the Sabbath is still observed. We had an awfully busy schedule, combining business with pleasure. Somehow, we would fit everything in. In five short days I had become comfortable in the hustle and bustle of Rome. I had found lots of short cuts, worked out how to dodge the traffic and picked up the odd phrase to make everyday life that bit more enjoyable. We were up with the lark, or should that be the sparrow, which chirruped.Read More
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