Stars hang high in a violet sky Yet no one gleamed in my mind's own eye Rotten, petrified, I long to sigh; 'How sad, how sad is that sky.'

A sultry wind whisked through the midsummer's air. Mistress moon danced across a pool mirrored fair. Gentle caresses in my hair. Creatures crept in hidden lairs.

I pray, I hope, I wish to see the twilight lapping of silver fish. The clouds, the dew, the mist conjures up a lurking thief.

Stars hang high in the violet sky. All is bleak in my mind's own eye. Beaten, ravaged, I began to sigh; 'How sad, how sad is my life.'