With the turn of a key, I’m there, inside my outside treasury,
Where I can be natural, truly natural, to unplug myself,
To renounce my title of “fleshling robot”, just for a while,
So, I can take in the sanity, of some clean fresh air,
And my exhalation, my gift, to nearby silent friends blooming,
The scene adorned with an orchestra of birds, dogs and the wind,
Who together compose a sweet immortal aria, ear medicine,
That my lugholes gulp down ravenously, with telepathic thanks,
I look around, and I gaze upon true reasons for me to smile,
The bluebells shimmer like sapphires, as blue as the waters
That splash upon the beach at elegant Egremnoi,
And the blades of the pampas grass, act loud and proud,
Like elongated emeralds reaching for the sky,
An open treasure chest full of gems, I have, and for a moment,
I truly become the richest man in the world,
Where my worries evaporate, and all my heart can do, is sing.