Blessed be
With the crown adorned with ten spheres
Blessed he
Who wears the laurel after all these years
Whoever dares to raise their voice
Have not seen what these eyes seen
All the voyages through they been
For it had no will, it had no choice
Broken and set adrift
It did receive a gift
For whatever she might have concealed
These thoughts now become congealed
For every strike of the iron rod
For every path ever trod
For every victory bestowed
For every stone throwed
All that has ever been begotten
All that has ever been forgotten
She bespoke intimately
Amor fati