The women of this domain struck us in the mouth,
The highness of women struck us with their tongue.
A soul clenched in the fist is used for clamping together the brains
Of males and females, for keeping women alive with their tongue.
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Hating an abhorrent man will judge him,
It is yesterday since the hats of scholars
Were donned, and worn by the scholars.
Followers of a teaching or doctrine find
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Inhale now that the books are chosen,
Turn them to inhabit them, occupying them.
There is a reason for the thinking,
A meaning to deliver to the brain.
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I strike a stone on your shoulder,
A warning seizes swiftly the man.
A beginning obliterated me when I cried
So meaningfully.
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Den of destruction is far away from us,
The rigours of its interior are like a mansion house.
The map shows our blunders, far too costly
For we can not arrive so early at the tomb.
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To govern the nation of strength
Is to be gorgeous, irreligious and irresistible.
In the strong liquors is a mystery,
Of light and darkness, that of the country.
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Guesses are correct according to the saints,
Answers are solved this way, from complaints.
Why do saints question and interrogate us?
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Tonight the tall grasses sway atop the scenery,
To this speak of width of your lenses, the bitter eye.
I gather before me my sight that was extinguished
All because of my awkward light, and dusk was begotten.
...