Year
              Oh my sun to the otherside of earthes?
So  Shall visit my brothers in Americas
 What if  more us give of light, warmth
If tomorrow late shall I come yes then
Late thoust never comest , why my Sun
Son, Americas wouldest more me to stay
Night pass so slow, you to see so patienless
Hought thou me need while lamp turned 
Sleep deep hence brains shall peace feelest 
Bones small werest on bed laying grewest 
Moon through my light yours well brightens
Son for thou now I leave…..