In the light the world began,
When spirits went for a walk,
Forgetful of the deep words,
I was at the Gods' drawstring;
In the dark and quivering forest,
While visions freed the eyes,
I saw Gods, men's deceivers,
Exchange themselves wise secrets.
The Leaves asked: "What's the root of poetry?"
The Rime said: "Gods created the first Poet to bring peace among them"
The Leaves asked: "What's the story of this man?"
The Rime said: "The envy of other
Men drained him of his knowledge.
They transfused a potion which brought
Inspiration to anyone who drank it"
Mead was created, stolen by Gods,
To deny every pleasure.
Men were deprived of that blood,
No one was able to reproduce it.
Rivers of verses, scarlet and gold.
To know what a thing really is,
You've to become that thing.
The Leaves said: "So cruel are Men and their wishes"
The Rime answered: "Who was born from the dust
Can't touch the sky without a miserable fall"
Dreams are the language of Gods,
Poetry goes beyond truth and lies.
Reason is the human tool,
In pursuit of fairness.
Dreams are the language of Gods,
Poetry goes beyond truth and lies.
Reason is the human tool,
In pursuit of fairness.