He never loved the frenzy of the sun / Nor the clear seas. / He came with hero's arms and bullock's eyes / Afraid of nothing but his nagging gods. |
There is no virtue now in blind reliance / On place or person or the forms of love. / The storm bears down the pivotal tree, the cloud / Turns to the net of an inhuman fowler / And drags us from the air. |
There is no virtue now in blind reliance / On place or person or the forms of love. / The storm bears down the pivotal tree, the cloud / Turns to the net of an inhuman fowler / And drags us from the air. |