The final gasp of fire against the lamp,
The rattle born of crimson filling lungs,
The closing pop of gasp from silent swamp,
The rumbling ice and shrieking crack deep dug.

The lamp's mascara—pretty eyes adorn,
And now another tree in marshland stands,
And somewhere gorgeous baby girl is born,
The ice cap nursing water slips to lands.

The first of sparks beginning forest flames,
The rains of spring lead river spewing flood,
And flames of forest flower cones of pines,
And silt to soil through spring cascade is wed.

Thus, elders to younglings anguish explain,
About the future born from ancient slain.