The Visible

I have sworn under illusions

From the past I have survived

Drowned in the midst of gray clouds

With wine at noble hand

From those tales I should now teach

To be a body consuming the art

Only I had to distance its touch

To know what has always been known

Is not to know at all what is not

It is the scoundrel who

In the greater presence

Will by fortune trodden sweet blooms

By his nature and birth to know

Why he then shall then after be alone then stone

Perception is a great distance

As perceiving is peace

I am now of wise age

I disagree as not with as real

Know I know all illusion

The distance between is only a thought

Enlightened and mercurial are these

To be between

What is invisible and seen