I am but the vapor of a lonely cloud,

That floats in the vast blue sky.

My thoughts make up what you see,

In this endless parade of academia.

Lost in the vastness of time elapsed,

Be it in the morning bright or night dull.

There I wander where angels make their home,

And I am alive with the flutter of their wings.

What gift is this that I possess beyond

That given to the stars that roam the heavens?

Should I, a vapor, entertain such thoughts sublime,

When that is left to the one and only creator?