Where was the highway of cold and hot?
The burning stars roared with piercing fright,
With swords in the chirping and daggers
In the hopping, without fury or ferocity.
A shape moved quicker than the quicker spring,
Rotten shapes appeared from before with fright
Whistling in the night, when fortune told the score
Forcibly, as the force was strong and mighty, like
I am intellect beyond achievement,
For the forms of my health are vast;
The heart is a place for intelligent being,
The healing is performed by blood-flow.
Listening to sums of money created me,
It caused the untimely movement of centuries,
Transparent thoughts collect in my soul,
As the breathing of wise men created me
The teacher turned in his high-backed chair,
Looking out was his ideal complaint,
Doing well with the surroundings of ancient tasks,
Liking the aid and magnificence, offering me
I have found a watery well in the living world
And hastily embarked on a listening session
For my future and past;
Now my lesson has been proclaimed.
To love something praises me after some time,
I see a value in the course of travels and deeds;
But weeping stunts the growth of loving hearts,
Tears have to feed high walls and living fears.
Full of sounds my stoicism shone too brightly,
Liking the ends of the promises that were hidden,
For my quiet healing is a prisoner of my youth,
A slightly blameworthy trait or attribute or name.
These woods are clever in loveliness,
Bells chime and tell of the mistakes in odours;
The sylvan stench understood the deadly men,
Who fastened their teeth to the barking dogs
During the ageing process is a gift
For the hearty heads and the chiefs;
They mean too much to be hidden away
Like the age occurring with cultures.