God gives me god impatient to be God,
for God’s name is an everlasting rod.

            Make me a bed, not another rod.
            Let me fall to sleep in pastures green.

Fall to snowy sleep in pastures green.
Full you are the fountains ‘neath the Earth.

            You are city fountains up upon the Earth.
            I want these rivers sprung to fill my core.

Meet a river of the east, spills through my core.
Vltava. Die Moldau. Smetana’s hunger—

            a sounding deep with strains of hunger.
            A god not old but ever younger.

Where the name is pure, yet rough and dogged.
God gives me god impatient to be God.