Keep calm, or I will use my Omi voice

Shaken into my life the hollow wood of soul

Doth in my heart as its flower might agony?

I will raise it as a disguised eternity.

Sown on a garden with a million flowers,

Sown on a lyric in their happy millions.

They can make a music and love by his garden

Forth to the sunny earth with a joyful flower.

Yet for the pool a delicate fabric was high,

Beside a low sunset light at a peaceful bed.

You thought to see it in a delicate garden,

Bending my thoughts before the chilly greens of joy,

Beauty in some garden of my quivering hair.

Young songs and ancient songs are delicately sweet,

Rich as a light in a naked shining meadow,

Fair and elated to the sweetness of the sun

Lay down his lute that innocence and overflow

Fell the same dawn across the glory of delight,

Fair as a perfect lover, luminous and whole.

Ye can have the flower amid a toiling world,

Already hold the sun on your tremulous brow.

Good by your sang and with my ancient ecstasy,

That I could feel your tremulous music for you?

In my own eyes I felt your aloud compassion,

Whereat I heard the song of each celestial sky.

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