Laid back and a lover of life, unrealistic and flippant,
Flighty, of flirtatious nature, predictable as much as wind;
One who makes the future different from the past,
Apt to try out new people and new ideas
But also crafty, underhanded and ingenious
When it comes to evil; a being
Who possesses rather than offers.
Created under the extrovert, movable sign,
He is of air, not of fire. Would outdo women,
But as a man, shine is not his to share.
Timid, undemonstrative and cautious
Is how his first for adventure
Finds them. They hold The Scales of Balance
But have no animal to portrait it,
And so they show themselves
With the idealistic, fair-minded Dog.
The acrid taste
Makes their bodies fairly poor fare.
Six daughters already wrought enough mischief
Among the six sons of the flint sickle.
Lady of harmony and concord,
You, who love a stallion, magnificent in a battle,
Enter the rose garden,
Lay your head on lavender Jade.
Lord Adon will visit you tonight.
Be patient with him
And as dexterous
As you are vile.
With the first light of the day
My finest beast, the Bull of Heaven,
Will roast on oak-wood fire.
Death is nothing more than a birth
Into a life of the very same mistakes;
It inspires you, until, in the high point of the seasons,
When the harvest of hard spring is reaped,
A god worthy of yourself
Is created. There you build your home
No longer required to declare a belief.