Here is recorded the passing of time
In passing; the rising wind of time
Swiping over the face of earth; man
Disappearing like a face drawn in sand
See these dark chambers see these halls
See the amber light and the dust in the halls
Here lie the archives of our passing days
In slumber; only the passing stays
Here lie conserved the ends of all affinities
Let us not speak of law and deities
Here comes Marvell his footfall echoing
What are you looking for, traveller?
Who are you?
I am Al-Kitab. I am the librarian; what can I do for you?
I guess, I'm looking for; for a girl; my girl
And who is your girl?
Her name is Ava!
Never heard!
I need to find her!
See, you know what this is, right?
You know what the melting library is?
I don't care what it is.
I'm looking for Ava and then i'll be gone without even saying goodbye.
If you want, I'll forget whatever this is
You cannot forget what this is; this is the hemorrhage of time.
This is the architecture of prophecy. Each thing sings its exile
Look, I respect your religion and all, but I need to find this girl.
They told me she is with the Ultrahydraulists. Are they here?
Oh, yes. They are in the upper gallery;
Planning on whatever they find important right now;
They are all pitifully concerned with that city of yours.
You all think it is the end of it that little city
With 120 million inhabitants
Dust and shadow; this globe is wider than your feeble thinking
I know there is something outside of this city
Ah but you do not realize the scale and the majesty;
The deserts of vast eternity the ocean breaking on pale coasts
And the wind asleep between mountains;
And the ulugh beg in his silent tower
The eye of law the voice of law the hand of law praise be
Please excuse me, I'm in a hurry
You overestimate the importance of your downfall;
Loss is the only grace you can attain.