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My Wealth is My Freedom ©

To Savinien de Cyrano. To whom freedom was priceless...
Nat Hall
Sandwick, Shetland

What is thy gold and gilt-edged rage, material world?
Under the ground they form a line;
Defy darkness - crawl like a worm...
The dazzling light, the dirty rain lost in their time...

What do they ride but the serpent of their own race?

What is thy world driven by greed and breathlessness?
On the platform a thousand souls
Gaze at the rails...
Glittering eyes at dawn and dusk lay motionless;
In the chaos, home is afar - late are the trains!

Of this lone world I broke my chains to fly away;
Uncaged my soul from the tunnels
Of tar and smoke...
The sky is blue, the light is bright - I've found my way...
Freedom is wealth, no longer prey, I am the hawk!

Of all your tricks my heart once kept a bitter taste -
Up in my world, where Gannets glide
I am master;
This pot of gold - my freedom fears no disaster,
Priceless feeling flows in my mind, forgetting haste...

...A free spirit above THAT world, I spread my wings!
My stock exchange dreams in the clouds; the rain can't freeze.
...What is money - poisonous pleasure that it brings?
But the sadness of all its slaves rooted like trees.

...Give them the moon to light their dreams.
Don't stare at me,
I'm not greedy!

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