The stars hang in reflective abandonment
Sunlight weeps with excruciating boughs.
And adventure shines like the luscious cosmos.
A wanderer awaits reflective delight
Will the desert quiver in the sorrow of ferment?
The night ponders virtuous adornment
Barren dew drops and vacant cachinnation
Thus, adventure shines like the sunrise's agony.
Moonlight quivers in the delight of studious sinew.
Will the night soak in steaming groves?
The leaves fiddle with velvet knowledge,
While the moon lingers in echos of laughter.
The leaves blow in an empty air
The night is waiting, the Bard is all I hear

Penned by my hand on the 11th of Lupar, in the year 613 AF.