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I'd like to meet:

***** PROLOGUE OF THE UNBORN ***** Into my loneliness comes - ***** The sound of a flute in dim groves that haunt the uttermost hills. Even from the brave river they reach to the edge of the wilderness. ***** And I behold Pan. ***** The snows are eternal above, above - ***** And their perfume smokes upward into the nostrils of the stars. ***** But what have I to do with these? ***** To me only the distant flute, the abiding vision of Pan. ***** On all sides Pan to the eye, to the ear; ***** The perfume of Pan pervading, the taste of him utterly filling my mouth, so that the tongue breaks forth into a weird and monstrous speech. ***** The embrace of him intense on every centre of pain and pleasure. ***** The sixth interior sense aflame with the inmost self of Him, ***** Myself flung down the precipice of being Even to the abyss, annihilation. ***** An end to loneliness, as to all. ***** Pan! Pan! Io Pan! Io Pan! *****