They’re dancing around stars Silver shrine has opened His black ponderous jaws To glimpses of nebula
They are martial fools of nature Hearsed in void out of their sepulchre Thoughts beyond reaches of our souls, Corpses have burst their cerements
Cannot believe Ghost ships in darkness Cold tombs for our friends What may this mean?
Obsequious sorrow in obstinate condolement Suffocating, you died with eyes wide opened Impious stubbornness, grief And mourning duties This must be so, who still has cried? Unprevailing woe.