By: Paweł Markiewicz

You dreamful, dreamy, moony and dreamed King of Elves!
You became in the most amazing ways:

A dazzling statue of Buddha, as If a ghost created it from the moony dreameries.
A parrot on the statue: the paradise-like birdie, awoken from stunning, meek, tender dawn.
A bonfire – the shimmer in the soft night with its warmth born from the muses of the tenderness.
A bewitchment-enchantment of a bliss, that brings amaranthine wind from paradise.
A poet worships the statue belonging to the dreamery of the Erlkings from the morns.
A pearlful inspiration in the wise mind, full of eternity of the Morningstar.
The poet who writes the most dazzling poesy like soul-softness of muses with tears.
The bonfire is being adored by the awoken bird of the melancholy of the times.
A daydreaming of the sylvan elves, bewitched in the dawns and the gorgeous Golden Fleece.
A whisper, that melancholy, for me and fancy of sempiternity, gives.

We praise, You most tender Erlking, and your treasure:
ontology, eschatology, epistemology, ethics, aesthetics, logic, metaphysics, epicureanism and stoicism, all of them, enchanted by tender Buddha in a most picturesque way.