Do not be angry with me
For I will come to you soon
Without the help of the moon
Sky roads are impossible to see

Now they are building a palace
In the garden we once met
Without mortar or bricks or stones
We built a palace of shining floors

The earth is not a flat like a wheat field
The scholar proclaimed his unlucky discovery
They made a huge pile of wooden posts
And lit a flaming fire to burn the poor wretched

Thousands before him knew the earth was flat
But to no purpose for they lacked courage
Poor them, indifferent
They had women and children to care
Who would become a hero for so an unimportant cause?

From the top of mountain height
A long stream left with delight
She flowed tirelessly day and night
Dreaming
Persisting
To feed the sea
Become a wave
And there forever be

Once
The poor stream
Struck with longing
Began to lament and scream
Losing virginity
She missed mountain and eternity

On the frosty rock
In the gloomy house with a lock
Empty of light
Full of plight
And ravens
That sang hells
To heavens
A young boy died
Of suicide
He could not bear evil beings
Or lives put in prisons
Or false freedoms
A love doer and a love fighter
He hated to join priests
Or marry solitude at any altar