You will never know darkness

oh, shadowless ones

not even a glimpse of sadness

from you all misery hides.

 

My sandals are not fit

to thread your golden trail

through gravel, through mud

through sand, my feet prevail.

 

Always taking the narrow path

tortuous, through spiny brush

refusing to tame its height

or avoid the scratch and rush.

 

I worship in the meadow

among the rolling grass

my voice echoes hollow

among granite and glass.

Continue building your majestic temple

and I will bring new gods for it

if they displease you, then

in the ruins we shall meet.