Its shadow, like a panther, stalks my lyrical shadow...

Fruits are given by trees that live,
Not by the wishful mind,
    which adorns itself with ashen 
    flowers from the abyss within.

How many kingdoms in minds and in things
Your imagination has carved !
That many
    You've lost, pre-dethroned,
    Without ever having them.

Against great opposition you cannot
Create more than doomed intentions !
    Abdicate and be
    King of yourself...