Behold, let's vision take your heart! Garden, Where iron like father reminds brothers Of their consanguinity, averting bloodshed. Where beasts, tired of roaring, rise and Gaze at the sky, and are there so many Of them 'cause they have a different Vision of God? Where low bird brings the gold of Sunset and all the might of it's Conflagration; lions dream, having their Faces on pads. Garden, garden where wolves lick cold Iron and the glance of a beast Means more than wisdom itself. Garden, we haunt with ease- Feral in the ma**es Garden, man-made cosmos. Where eagle falls downwards like idol From temple roof, And sometimes he seats with a wings so Strangely spread. Does it seem for him he's flying high over the mountains? Or does he pray? Or is he hot?