MOULD-COLOURED like the leaf long fallen from The autumn branch, he rises now, the Fish. The cold eyes of the gannets see their rock: He has No-whither. Who was it marked Earth from the waters? Who Divided space into such lines for us, Giving men To and Fro, not Up and Down? This dweller in the ancient element Knows Space`s cross-road. Who Closed up the Depth to us? He rises now Mould-coloured like the leaf long fallen from The autumn branch, with eyes that are like lamps Magicians fill with oils from dead men ta`en, Most rootless of all beings, the Fish.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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