1896

Some wizard, very bad and sly,
Had separated mind my own,
From real nature my -
And that is why I cry and moan.

But if he sometimes fells asleep,
While lost his magic awful,
Great nature is not more joyful,
It doesn't create of me a slip.

Always sincere one and mindful,
She'll quietly approach me.
In her, as bottomless as sea,
I see a grace of all that's marvel.