All Has Been Looted, Betrayed, Sold; Black

I Go Forth To Seek To Seek And Claim The Lovely Magic Garden Where Grasses Softly Sigh And Muses Speak.

But Fear And The Muse In Turn Guard The Place Where The Banished Poet Has Gone And The Night That Comes With Quickened Pace Is Ignorant Of Dawn.

Your Voice Is Wild And Simple. You Are Untranslatable Into Any One Tongue.

Song Falls Silent, Music Is Dumb, But The Air Burns With Their Fragrance, And White Winter, On Its Knees, Observes Everything With Reverent Attention.

I Know Beginnings, I Know Endings Too, And Life-in-death, And Something Else I'd Rather Not Recall Just Now.