He come up and throw himself down He finds no strength to get off this ground By the wave of the horsetail By the wave of the horsetail He wishes no height, no height in your mind To climb the steep hill none he can find If you think you can see it in your hand Then you are blind For unless he draw them, they will not come For no man seeks him, no not one There is number to your hours There is number to your hours You, I don’t know from a stone’s throw If you think you can see it in your hand Then you are blind And if you think you can see it in your hand Then you are blind He bring the whirlwind to scatter your fire You cannot reach him No, not from your tallest spire