Wisława Szymborska - Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedtion lyrics

So these are the Himalayas. Mountains racing to the moon. The moment of their start recorded on the startling, ripped canvas of the sky. Holes punched in a desert of clouds. Thrust into nothing. Echo - a white mute. Quiet. Yeti, down there we've got Wednesday, bread and alphabets. Two times two is four. Roses are red there, and violets are blue. Yeti, crime is not all we're up to down there. Yeti, not every sentence there means d**h. We've inherited hope - the gift of forgetting. You'll see how we give birth among the ruins. Yeti, we've got Shakespeare there. Yeti, we play solitaire and violin. At nightfall, we turn lights on, Yeti. Up here it's neither moon nor earth. Tears freeze. Oh Yeti, semi-moonman, turn back, think again! I called this to the Yeti inside four walls of avalanche, stomping my feet for warmth on the everlasting snow.