There's Witchcraft - in the Evening
As chariot - of Moon
Races to throne - celestial stone
That makes the poets swoon
Casting strange phantasms
Cross the dark - dreamy sands
As if the sky's enchanted
By Magician's wanton wand
We renounce rusty Realism
To bathe - dwell in Sky
Obeisant to Soul's debauchery
In which our spirits fly
    O magic, deep explosive power
    Blossoming like exquisite flower