The farrow flutter while they watch
the mercury man who loosely stoops
Quicksilver sweat wicks free of his brow
as he settles down on daffalo roots

His hands emerge and purged in dirt
they broker the bertulling bottle
He lifts the liquid to larching lips
and the farrows call out in staccato

The dippuling dust runs the colour of rust
From horizons a hammering flash
A drop dripples down to the rats in the roots
and the farrow's heads crumple and crash

The mercury man's buttered bronze by the haze
of the dust of the Cirrudat Plain
He quick gripples Solbo, the sanduzat charm
to the fips of feet falling like rain

Solbo observes and listens line levelled
tivving twice in ruby-hued ripples
then sapphire stings stab the daffalo bark
The man's magic charm starts to chipple

When me and the others next open our eyes
the suns simmers scarlet, soon setting
The mercury man's moved away through the fade
fleshy farrow are all that we're getting

But I took a look at the daffalo roots
where the dizendak drop dribbled dryly
You shan't touch the plant with the silversap shoots
yet I broke off a burrish branch slyly

Next time farrows flock to the torch
of invaders irripent and bold
I'll bring a surprise in my dippulled disguise
I'll test truth of the tales we're told