Once
   you told me about the lions,
Whether it was fable or truth.
No one there
      could bid them haughty defiance
For they brought not charges but ruth.

Pair of them
      descended down from the mound,
      with diadems they were crowned
and seemed like heavenly beasts.
Broken stem
      had bloomed afresh and the sound,
      pierced all the foliage around,
had all the whispers released.

But
      one
            who comes in wake of the morrow
            has the horns entwined by snakes.
Every note
      you so lightheartedly borrow
      should be heard, whatever it take