I quench my thirst with

Hard liquor

To take the edge off my existence

I would have more than that

Un homme qui recherche les trésors

But none being available,

I sit perched upon a high moat

Afraid of the height to which I’ve climbed.

I’ve climbed this way because I was unable to stand

And needed out of my wobbliness

Now I see I’ve climbed too far

Beyond ever coming back

I keep hoping, beyond the silt-swollen river,

That there’d be a rider and horse

To wear my flower into battle

In chivalrous, shielding manner,

Unafraid of heights and moats.

But I think it is a dream I once had when small

Of a Green Rider, bearing the glory of the phoenix

On his shield

He was unafraid of that moat above which I sat

And took on the challenge of heights.

I look for this Green Rider to this day

But do not find him.

He is lost, I think, in a wide world of dissipation

And more harsh liquor

Perhaps, he hopes for someone to challenge his moat

But finds none but the occasional glimpse of a

Far-off, distant and guarded tower.

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