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
