O! The prudent poet,

I admit you know

The mysteries of muse,

The words speak themselves

In front of you,

Your poems and panegyrics

Song and lyrics,

Similes, images and metaphors:

All versified agents of poesy

Are more precious than the gems

Diamonds, pearls and prizes;

Costly than the ancient costumes,

The strings of beads

Clustered rounds the royal necks;

Antiques of the alien lands,

And treasures of the distant fairy world;

They might have shine of the full moon,

As the words,

Like stars glow in the divine books,

But these crystals of jewels,

In black and white,

Quench not hunger of the Hell:

The cruel, brutal belly.