Month like the float
In the heavenly pond.
A cloud hook is swallowed —
Cuttings are Golden.
Suddenly fell the rain
From the sky, like a barrel,
Spread and weep,
Ran rush...
The wind cloud caught
For grizzled forelock,
Loud miserably banished,
Because the heart is not Luba.
Swung inside
Pond silence.
Have sardella tent
Night thoughts move