---

Lone in the meadows
A wind stirs the laurel trees
where two springs await

Waters of wisdom
flow down the silent streams of
rivers of yore

remembrance's bound to
the drink from the Mnemonic
source of arrogance

In my hands I raise
the waters from the Lethe
and a sip I take

The laughter of the
Naiades I hear, swirling
as I'm washed and wiped

Ephemeral the threads
of liquid that escape my
grasp - as ideas depart.

Careless, epicene.
My wreath's woven by thoughts,
Crowned by naught I am

---

Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.