....
So, death is proud and time is life,
The grey hair is a young maiden;
Close to death and far from life's breath.
The wicked are humble in death
whilst the humble die wickedly-
As lightening dance across the sky;
So doth wailing wails beneath trees,
The thug cold hug the naked earth-
So doth thunder yell 'neath the sky.
So, death is proud and time is life_
But the pride of life is sweet death.
.....
The wet land is for the waterer
whilst the burn'ng green grass burneth not,
The wicked has heartless kindness-
The humbles' tears run o'er baskets
as bitterness blow beneath the sky
-as rumples from tall waterfalls-
whose impact has great impact-less.
The wicked are humble in death
whilst the humble die wickedly.
So, death is proud and time is life_
But the pride of life is sweet death.
"words from the innocent mind"
Philip Peace