Orpheus

Thru magic power of aerial music,

Entrancing skies and birds and stones,

I hear the cruel tears of martyr

Mourning his love all gone to kingdom come.

I also hear the shrieks of thousand wild voices,

The coarse fingers rip apart you adolescent flesh,

The chaste blood drops with the sound of purest peal,

And ground and beasts and trees gasping at sorrow they feel.

Beauteous Orpheus, repose,

Your heart's still beating in the nature's symphony,