I was a custom practised by the young,
My meaning was unknown to the gentle ones.
I was glory of the world, golden and incident light,
Monotonous sounds, delicate rhythms, delightful tunes.
I was a new man now that they declared an event of clarity,
Alloys and metals prolonged my face, beautiful bones
Bought my head and heart, blood was congealed
In blending harmony, my authorship remained the same.
Its clarity was overcoming, blood rips through the brain,
With folly, without the result of a soul, a living being has been.
My tree is full of blown leaves, exact replicas, destroyed vile
Needles depart from this district along with fierce winds.
Conmen have departed on trains, cars have been raided,
Like the criminals of a new age, a science of space and time.