Sky's winds and sea's tides.
Men of the past have likewise been here.
Saints of wine, wizards of verse.
I climbed to gaze out.
Sun is far, heaven is high.
Mountains join water, vast and obscure.
Waters join sky, remote and mysterious.
Through with making a name for myself,
I laugh and chant verse;
Haven't waited for any old monk to invite me!
Things grow, things fall;
I lie on my bed at midnight.
All about me are puppets on stage;
Man's life, unreal; like a bubble.
Who in the mist of danger
Beneath my writing ...