What is my mast ? A pen.
What are my sails ? Ten crescent moons.
What is my sea? A bottle of ink.
Where do I go? To heaven again.
What do I eat ? The amaranth flower,
While the winds through the jungles think old tunes.
I eat that flower with ivory spoons
While the winds through the jungles play old tunes;
The songs the angels used to sing
When heaven was not old autumn, but spring
The bold, old songs of heaven and spring.