I have a perpendicular sword in my heart
My bashful confession sticks to my uvula, in-between my teeth
Being understood I dread, the communion of souls
I recoil cowardly from the projection on a winding heath
Floaded is this shoal with devils all agog

I planted a fake bouquet by a tree.
At which hour rain knocks the lifeless beauty brooding
Ov'r the sighs of thirsty roots

Will you comfort my fictitious spirit?
Golden dust falls through the fingers of the wind,
Brandishing like a child, this disinherited magic
Thousands years of rectitude hover through the night
I have a perpendicular sword in my heart