II threw three canes into a rippling enamel-patterned lake,
deep in the forest. Seven bats flew out of the bubbles,
fading into the platinum-colored mountain range.
I then listened carefully; I heard the footsteps
of a marching troop, blending with metallic sounds.
Lyrics became smoke, and fairy tails became fangs,
drawing out a huge silk curve.
The triangular ether-made object spinning in the center
originates from the invasion of geometric
savages and a shadow-lamp.