The fountains are flowing
With many ideas
This makes the poem
That comes from the gutter of my soul
And flows to the foundation of my mind
This poem is the hunter
Who is hunting the truth day and night,
This poem flies like a spear
A hungry spear
Hungry for the blood of prey
The poem of my soul
Is the pillar of the planet earth
And the beams of the opened door
To the world of the living
That is the poem of my soul.