Rather than giving Such a metallic seed, And make believe, There would be a tree;
I have seen you, Singing in the temple, Whereas no one enters, Unless their mask would be stripped off;
A purple orchid and an orange torch, Can easily spare some Beauty, Among Gentiles, If they're willing to survive one night, By giving up their crimes;
In which I smell incense no more, For the air is full of lame coins;
Nevertheless, I do believe, There is a light, At the end of the corridor, In which, Your eyes and mine shall create, A Tower, Whereas the Blind can find, An ambrosial Sign.