All right, now I 'll say it. Dante makes me sick.

      --Lope de Vega (1562-1635), Spanish poet and playwright, on his deathbed

De acuerdo, entonces, lo diré: Dante me hace enfermar.

Nobody knows the trouble I see,
nobody knows but Jesus.
Nobody knows the trouble I see,
glory hallelujah

Sometimes I’m up,
sometimes I’m down,
oh yes Lord,
sometimes I’m almost to the ground,
oh yes Lord.

Nobody knows the trouble I see,
nobody knows but Jesus.
Nobody knows the trouble I see,
glory hallelujah.

Sometimes I'm up,
sometimes I'm down,
oh yes Lord,
but all the time I'm heavenly bound,
oh yes Lord.

If you get there before I do,
oh yes Lord,
tell all my friends I'm coming too,
oh yes Lord.

  --This is a beautiful old spiritual whose slow, sad music conveys the tragedy of slavery. It was sung in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1865. You can hear Paul Robeson singing it here.
 

The dead are invisible, not absent.

     --Saint Augustine of Hippo (354-430)

[If anyone has the original Latin, please send it to me. Thanks]