There's a sailor who's lost
In a cemetery
And he's putting his ear to the granite
Lifting the grass and determining
The direction of the wind
The clouds are impartial
The ether is hidden
A mole roots around
Licentiously
Pushing the sacred to the outskirts
For what is it looking?
What is calling?
Beneath
The world
Explodes
There's an eagle
Whispering to the trees
Searching for a great spirit
Its piercing eyes play tricks on its heart
The trees are old
This mossy rock is old
On the moon is a rocketship
So it goes
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