Your finger strikes the drum,
dispersing all its sounds,
And new harmony begins.

Your step is the rise of new men,
their setting out.

Your turn away your head:
New Love!
You turn your head again:
New Love!

'Alter our fates, destroy our plagues,
Beginning with Time,'
sing the children.
They beg of you:
'Make out of anything
The stuff of our fortunes and desires.'

Come from always,
you will go away
everywhere.