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(Lyrics adapted from the text by Robinson Jeffers)

Joy is a trick in the air, pleasure is merely contemptible,

But limitary pain- the rock under the tower

and the hewn coping

That takes thunder at the head of the turret-

Terrible and real. Therefore a mindless dervish

carving himself

With knives will seem to have conguered the world.

The world's God is treacherous and full of unreason,

A torturer.

Who fights him eats his own flesh and perishes

of hunger; who hides in the grave

To escape him is dead; who enter the Indian

Recession to escape him is dead; who falls in

love with the God is washed clean

Of death desired, and of death dreaded.

(However I suppose few in the world have

energy to hear effectively-

Have paid my birth-dues; am quits with the people.)