It’s not the rage of Mars, so don’t be fooled,

It doesn’t change from mastery to being ruled,

This ruling light which God helps keep alight,

By shielding it with fingers curled up tight;

Over all souls God lets his radiance fall,

The lucky lift their skirts to catch it all,

Appreciating their small share of light

From all apart from God they blind their sight;

Whoever lacked a skirt acquired through love,

Could not catch any radiance from above:

Round Universal Being contingents turn

While roses make each nightingale’s heart burn.