Aimlessly wandering
the giant tortoise
dwells by the mountained trees.
He knows not, yet he’s walking
that his only joys
will be the in the greened hills.
Now when he’s scrolling up
through a sinous path
pause he cannot conceive
for his Maya thus weaves.
To the top he must reach
and scratch its warmed up peak
where rains expire, where pebbles lie
whitened by the sun he must die.

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