Zion’s beauty shall I see,
Imago’s sharped dentals !
But Lord deliver me
Not by my curse but;
Your wish be done.

Winds of fate,
I must respond to their whispers.
Quaker of the crust of earth,
I must meet his trembles.

He cold than ice itself.
Perhaps by man’s health enemies
Or by man’s biting cruel venture,
But I shall’ve to hug his icy structure.

Day, minute, second
and microsecond
Shall forsake me.
Glance’s heart shall bleed with grief
And I, a tone of phobia shall rest with relief.

Lightlessness on hitting the nail,
Mercy of the living wail;
None of thee to walk along with me,
Let my God save the Queen be vocalized
On Kibo, the highest of Afrika but no,
Give Margharita the pleasure
For my mother I shall have loved with no measure.

Remember, diamond and cosy
Not my farewell
Hardly to rest in pain...