O, how does a strange bird flit in and out of the cage
Should I catch it, with my mind I would shackle its feet.
Eight rooms and nine doors, latticed windows here or there
And in the main chamber above, a hall of mirrors.
A twist of fate, why else would the bird behave so strange
Breaking out of the cage, it flies to an unknown forest.
My mind, you pine for your cage of fragile wood –
Fakir Lalon laments, it may collapse any day.