Wish for anything you want, anything.
You can have the music beaten to the veranda
windows by autumn rain, beaten for you
by ivy vine, by past generations.
Make a wish, you'll get everything, the archives lie in the rooms,
in narrow beds, that's where the music is sleeping,
at rest is the music of lung cancer, split heart,
torn aorta, brain eaten up by sorrow,
at rest is the beautiful land, the snow that comes.
Everything is blanketed in music, high and beautiful.
All this you shall have.