The inspired —- chilled with the pale virgin blossom My solar rash never cease, Hot, light and shining like the gazing delight... That rays reminds me of the shame and the guilt, abides that the life it plays.. The five pentnach arise, As the heyday middle height, testing with that hanging thrive, As the smell of the virgin blossom, That gentleness blow with the feeble hands, It is a pale indexation chilled in such heat embrace