The Dragon

I am a solitary Wanderer,

     a Watcher,

       a Bandar,

       whose breath,

     whose soul,

   whose blood boils with the echoes of Mother’s lullaby,

 of birth of star,

of death of day.

I fly,

 I soar over the abyss,

   over the water,

   over the spring,

 over the grave.

I dwell in the netherlands,

 I dwell in the hitherlands.

I dwell ever dying,

         I dwell ever birthing.

               Sing with me,

         dance with me.

       See,   am I alone?

         Well, at least, I am not lonely.