The fire burns absurd colors and strange dances,
Bringing life low, with death it enhances,
Even the lives that were static,
Its embrace can make emphatic,
Oft rekindling ancient romances.

That place, thick with green, where the deer prances,
Where people sing a chorus in stances,
The house between floor and attic,
The fire burns.

After all the slings, arrows and lances,
After all the last great performances,
After all the plans pragmatic,
And madness born from lunatic,
After all is gone save parting glances,
The fire burns.