Has no pillars

And no roof either

So rain cannot soak it

And wind cannot  blow it down!

Triumph or defeat is in their hands of the gods

so let us celebrate this struggles

With birth and death complete:

I cloister it from care and strife

And keep it sane and sweet.

With eager eyes I great the morn,

Exulant as a boy,

Knowing that I am newly born

To wonder and joy.

And when this sunset splendors wane

and right for rest and I,

knowing that I will live again,

Exultantly I die.

O that all life were but a day

Sunny and Sweet and SANE!

And that I’d even I might say;

“I sleep to wake again”