No One Knows, The Heart Of A

For This Beauty, Beauty Without Strength, Chokes Out Life.

Not God With Wine, Nor Death, Nor Hate For A Cry, But God With A Song

(those Women Whom The Distaff No Longer Claims Nor Spun Cloth) Driven Made, Mad, Mad By Bacchus.

Dance Until The Earth Dance.

We Don't Have To Know,only To Be:let Go The Jumble Of Worn Words,reason And Vanity.