O spirits of the yonderland
Tell me something about the dreamland
The mystery behind my wanderings.
Pray; say, Did the night pass?
Did a new moon bloom, or a crescent -
While I drool the saliva of fatigue atop the pillow
I learnt a year pass away like a kite.
Tell me; about the giant swallowed by the night
And the dark-nest or darkness that birth a mirth, a light
The dawn of a new myth.
But say, spirits of my fathers
What holds this new moon -
A symbolism of hope, a soaring eagle
Or the stories my grandfathers told?