It is not for you to be gay,
Ye, ordinary perennials,
Defenders of life and eternal revival.
Forget thy words and follow no truth
As centres dispersed float around everywhere
Deafening silence.
It is not for you to be merry
Spinning in the maddening whirlpool
Of lost selves;
Once again you defy the final amendments.
Loathsome love be whipped off any label
Yawning its fluorescence in cheap markets.
Hey, ye, forgetful sinners of the dawn
Delay your breath and misspell your names
For blinders rob you of all which should bee seen.