I give the bridle free;
The horse’s flanks I spur:
- The raging mob is at my heels.
Smiting, fight my way through ethers,
Be they rigid, be they stiff,
And no mercy shows my sword.
Boulders chopped to tiny pieces
Heads are rolling, limbs are cracking:
Once ossified, chaos now surges.
Rabid I rage through the ethers;
To rigidity I grant no quarter.
Flowers, bursting seams, do blossom;
Even now hope, distant, hails me...
Translation: Joseph Bailey
© Raymond Zoller