Ruins

I turned back to the golden haunts of childhood, And back on the white path of youth; I turned To see the wonder palace built for me Once by the holy hands of sacred Loves.

The path was hidden by the thorny briars; The golden haunts, burned by the midday sun; An earthquake brought the wonder palace low;

And now amidst the ruins and ashes, I Am left alone and palsy-stricken; snakes And lizards, pains and hatreds dwell now here In constant loathful brotherhood with me. An earthquake brought the wonder palace low!