Emil Verhaern. (№ 397520)

There, in a white silence, there is a Stroy unshakable
In the frenzied movement of those Golden balls
Around the fire of the fire, around the star birthmark, -
The violent gyre of worlds.
What a monstrosity of countless creatures!
Leaves of flame, a shrub of lights
Growing up and up, living in the eternal change,
The death of the host, to back burn clearer!
The woven lights and Shine again,
Like diamonds without end
On a necklace around an invisible person
And it seems the earth is slightly visible diamond
Fallen for centuries with a heavenly face.