Passing heat rises from black earth
yet soon the day will die in its own visions;
as night will soon give birth
to all window-sill thinkers' sunlit inhibitions.
Laying softly to shut heavy eyes
the rain still knocks on the front door.
When waking from harmonious sleep, nature truly reveals what it implies.
Though the mind takes place all but once
the wind will still blow after all flesh has dissolved from the core.
All is changing in a constant realm,
even when the eye only can guess what it sees.
Be it not body nor soul that is tonight's pensive helm
for the clouds' wrath will illuminate how they please.