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.