He come up and   Throw himself down   He finds no strength to get off this ground   By the wave of the horsetail   By the wave of the horsetail      He wishes no height   No height in your mind   To climb the steep hill none the can find   If you think you can see it in your hand   Then you are blind      For unless he draw them   They will not come   For no man seeks him   No not one   There is number to your hours   There is number to your hours   You I don’t know   From a stone’s throw      If you think you can see it in your hand   Then you are blind      He bring the whirlwind   To scatter your fire   You cannot reach him   No not from your   Tallest spire