Angels who have suffered the first forlornment, who now
Lifts up your saddened wings to send you soaring?
O how the mountains thrust up high beyond you,
And how the ocean curls its waves about you!
Angels, awaiting his old command to be forgiven,
Lift up your gentle wings for fresh hosannas.
But how the sharp hills grow up high beyond you,
And how the winds blow down to the very heart.
Humility burns, and banishment is eternal; he said,
Too much hope within us makes us die.
And the mountains use up the heavens all around you,
And the winds and waves are crying, to confuse you.
And this is faleshood, Angels, should he call you; but fold
Your remorseful wings and gently forget his love.
For the mountains are there now, very far above you,
And the winds disperse your godhood everywhere.