Wisdom does not stop
At the door of the wise
It speaks sometimes
From the mouth of a child
Water flows away
From each and every height
And the lowest of the lows
It woos with full might
Never before it was
That sun burned so bright
The crown shall melt away
Of every snowy height
There shall stand filled
Every cup that was dry
The bosoms shall go dry
Which bloated full with pride
Time favors them not
In huddle go the heights
And who were in the dark
They now see the light!
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