Оригинален текст
He come up and throw himself down
He finds no strength to get off this ground
By the wave of the horsetail
By the wave of the horsetail
He wishes no height, no height in your mind
To climb the steep hill none he can find
If you think you can see it in your hand
Then you are blind
For unless he draw them, they will not come
For no man seeks him, no not one
There is number to your hours
There is number to your hours
You, I don’t know from a stone’s throw
If you think you can see it in your hand
Then you are blind
And if you think you can see it in your hand
Then you are blind
He bring the whirlwind to scatter your fire
You cannot reach him
No, not from your tallest spire