We are more often colored by our experiences, than our skin.
Where all great work is done.
Sowing, eager seeds.
Thirsty waters, babbling brooks.
I could have ended it;
but kept going instead.
My life I mean.
I have a higher opinion of garbage,
because trash can be recycled;
but people like you don't change.
Seed, tilling around.
Ravishing soil, tickling leaves.
Dancing on sodden land.
Babylon rests, in sun-golden rays.
Fortuna smiles upon you.
Material happiness, fortunate marriage, contentment.
lest they find what drunkeness suits them best,
and be called happy.