distance yourself it sets in
and thoughts went out staffless into all the eight winds
this one to thera the future mother of cities built upon ashes
after the hissing embers had cooled in the deep of the sea later named 
                                                                                               after tumbling humans
pushing aside thecstones we ate real bread and drank wine dark as night
the two of us at the round table loaned to us by the secret master 
                                                                                            that we may never sell it
moved upstream to the colonial town where io fleeing arrived once
but your thunder all over wiped out the sound of the gadfly
and ruminating the green she rested a while behind the dune
on which no cathedral had stood no roland no town hall
not this post-war building with slanted staircase
which shows that something is wrong with the city councillors 
                                                                                        their location and number
but aware of it they will be when happens what loomed and of necessity 
                                                                        they will halve the boastful hundred
then it will be too late for not torn down yet till then had remained this sign
unable to volunteer they will have lost then their freedom
but your roar remains in the name as in the mussle
though without knowing the reason they understand your vine more than others
to the south in the hills you also have planted the fig tree of your mother

just drive me out farther still you wrapped out of a purple nappy
and knowest lying apart the place by two brooks founded by cityless dorians
who had taken themselves away with the light-smiling woman 
                                                                         from the spirit of wrath-filled names
and of similar sound the negating name then was given the town 
                                        from which i was carried away soon after birth 
to that place where sundrunken your hyperboreic wine yard began
and if dear to you among humans a man not respecting the domination of humans
who still voluntarily served both spirits and humans
no farther away from thuringia not to the thought-head not to the 
                                                                                       island-embraced clear air
that weaned from your breast voice oiled by cod oil tuborggroen or carlsberg
a salty taste may yet remain on his tongue in the end
o roaring god gone away so far but always back to the sea-distanced thebae
you came back with gifts and losened the tongue of yours' so they'd sing
                                                                                         more than they knew well
somewhere to the gentle hills and rivers lead him back a small piece of the road 
and sealed with the imprint of the key send this around in the headless country
kneeling and rightly so the hands bound to the back