Will stars shine on thy ceiling? When you collapse onto the soil of the night Will streams of the meadows be filled? When you spill the light of thy breath Into the soundless horizons
You've sowed the tree of evident On your illusive field The flaming rye burns jealously your toes And nothing you have left but to move on Upon the neverending path Across the serpent's labyrinth So your could gone at once Into the well of time
