I took my guitar to the sea and said: 'Come now heaven, these fingers bled, Wrangle and rain for thoughts you deign And all the listeners dumb shall proclaim, Strings are merely— vibrations of the soul And soul is merely one mirror to the gods, Take my dying art and throw it— to wind Hear my song, strung, sept to your kin.'
I Took My Lyre
I took my lyre and said: Come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument