27 May 2008
Who is left to follow anymore
For an answer who is there to call
Monuments and altars, what are they for
But fallacies waiting to fall
Every farmer leaves his lines in the field
Geometry, chaos and time
I am just a tenant on this land of these seeds
But the cultivation is mine
Architects and draftsmen; we are residents
Beggars and saints
Only by the strength of our longing and praise
Will Paradises be made