Among black butterflies goes a dark girl beside a white serpent of mist...

Earth of light,
sky of earth...

She goes chained to the tremor
of a rhythm that never arrives;
(not on me)
she has a heart of silver,
in her right hand a dagger.

Earth of light
sky of earth.

Where are you going, Siguiriya,
with a headless rhythm ?
What moon will gather up
your sorrow of lime and oleander ?

Earth of light,
sky of earth.