The world of fantasies,
Azure peace ant quit,
Wheat-fields,
Toward the icon
A monk apothegms synodic.
In the dark grow evening,
The crimson dusk,
Under feet their swan-song
The leafage hymn.
By a silvern thread Stigmatized with the cross
The curst pattern weaves
The envious spider - old chap.
Of the christ's eyen's - Almandine - of a cherry wine - pomegranate hadst measured at a glance the distant.
By the culpable inquisition knot the crescent moon radiated in the scrow.
In the hands of oure
Mother-Earth, God Knows!
Ik shal die...
Stealing thru the woods ant glades... wol never gaze to oon's herte's content...(at) ....