Desert air on skin The chill of empty space The nomad´s grin The sand, the wave and the cold Will drive him back in Will keep them close to him and they will hide inside Behind blind mirrors Trembling in tents Hearts weak with fear He knows, he likes to keep them near and at the night With a pride too big to swallow and with leprous hands Has them hum and dance to him for they have boiled his faith into abstraction and coiled up in their sickrooms Their bodies stir-stir-stirring in blankets Like a mothers withered breasts They still set him to dreaming of quartering steel and of climbing fire with a dripping honey hole He´ll be winning them over and with calculated neglect He likes to know them there and they will know that they may only know The laws of Things Never their meaning only their laws and they will bury their holy blade Deep in devoted chests and after such knowledge What forgiveness Desert air on skin The chill of empty space The smell of emptied bodies The sand, the wave and nothing and nothing