THROUGH THE troubled history of man
comes sweeping a blind fury of destruction
and the towers of civilisation topple down to dust.
In the chaos of moral nihilism
are trampled underfoot by marauders
the best treasures of Man heroically won by the martyrs for ages.
Come, young nations,
proclaim the fight for freedom,
raise up the banner of invincible faith.
Build bridges with your life across the
gaping earth blasted by hatred,
and march forward.
Do not submit yourself to carry the burden of insult upon your head,
kicked by terror,
and dig not a trench with falsehood and cunning
to build a shelter for your dishonoured manhood;
offer not the weak as sacrifice to the strong
to save yourself.

IF THERE is nothing but pain in loving
then why is this love?
What folly is this to claim her heart
because you have offered her your own!
With the desire burning in your blood
and madness glowing in your eyes
why is this circling of a desert?
He bankers for nothing in the world
who is in possession of himself;
the sweet air of the spring is for him,
the flowers, the bird songs;
but love comes like a devouring shadow
effacing the whole world,
eclipsing life and youth.
Then why seek this mist that darkens existence?

DAWN PLAYS her lute before the gate of darkness,
'and is content to vanish when the sun comes out.'