Of the heavenly script, alphabets of planets

One must have a mind of winter

To find the source, in cruel adversity

Our lives which, was thick with it

 

The January sun, the distant glitter

The listener, who listens for the snow

And hears only the wind

 

Nothing that is not there, and nothing that is �"

One must have a time for waiting

And a misery for patience

 

And a holding of the beating pulse

And a torture of the aching breath

To traverse Jupiter’s moon on

 

The route to Saturn’s rings

We fling ahead of monotony

Until we hit the brink of cold dresses

 

A mumbling zay-a-zay of moonlight

The diamond and sapphire points

Of what cannot always be perceived.