Lingerer, there are dreams and there is death
Lingerer, you cannot have the two.
It will not do.
PANINA:
Please, please. I beg of you,
Do not wake me from this sleep.
Don’t sweep away his singsong voice,
The smell of his skin, his palm on my cheek.
He’s happy here, and I am, too.
Let the living world rust,
But do not burn my son to dust.