You, who saved my childhood in your eyes,
You, whose song throughout the cosmos cries,
Do not be troubled by the death of kings,
Do not fall victim to the little things.
Yes, you are the child of vim and vale,
As are all others who have lost the trail,
Through you, the fundamental Word still rings,
Do not fall victim to the little things.
The carnal weight pulls heavy on your soul,
But do not pay the slings and arrows toll.
Be wounded, yes, but fight with vicious swings
Do not fall victim to the little things.
Your eyes can see abeyant prophecies,
The dreams of forests and the face of trees
Do not let candlelight your pupils sting
Do not fall victim to the little things.
Our primal mother through your body springs
To you, the great ancestral force still clings
When last the closing note the spider sings,
Do not fall victim to the little things.