Of your fruit;
You are from the vineyard of red wine my love,
But the grain must be ground to make bread.
To the drunkards of Ephraim i will never share my love with,
Like a woman in pain who is about to give birth to a baby;
Of the animations of life,
Of magic and polydaemonism!
Of a fadding flower like the animation of things.
You are the lady of beauty and the lady of Kingdoms,
But the flood of mighty waters is overflowing around you;
Like the first fruit before summer.
Cry like a woman in labour and write down this story,
For the Blacksmith has taken his tools;
But, prepare the way for the Carpenter to encourage the Goldsmith.
I am the voice of him who cries in the wilderness,
And i am like the cormorent and the owl;
For the inhabitants around are like grasshoppers without any hope.
Sow beside all waters and gain the morrow,
For death cannot praise you when you are gone.
Like a market place of the nations where the hungry man dreams,
Mourn like a dove with tried stones around its neek.
Animations,
Of the work and life we live in;
Animations,
Of the act of ones hope towards a dream;
You are very beautiful from a special vineyard.