You, lonely eyes, have accompanied me through
The destruction of worlds,
The dreary plague crying constant sad.

You, flower upon wood, flow free of your own mind.
And for this I love your folded ears,
Your growls flaming a soft smile.

Within this finite feeling rolls mothers tears, growing
Quite continuous stirring in the summer
Rays; yet I have no control, no thought paroled.

Parrots upon the screens I watch, as real as the day is dead,
You, lost soul, envy the phony,
The rich in money, but poor in dignity.