Th’waste rain-fall flows, fitfully free, unto sea o’er reams of language earth-born.
I switch from now to then; from then to now.
Your wealth extends to awe all foreign lands! Your pious worship deeply pleases all our divine hosts, who bless our lives with Ma’at!
Now mourned’s the passing peace of night, its flight flown with the scorching licks of star-fire at its torn ‘n frayed heels.
To a-waiting ideas, then, return.