As fingers they reach,
Questing aloft
For the skies blustery but blue.
Their ends taper off
And thin into nothing
Only to sprout anew
With the new era
Three hundred five and sixty long
Of four and twenty hours.

Solem et caelum cupient,
Sed saepe celant.

Yet still quests each,
As oft
As it shines so they pursue.
These fingers gravity scoff
And the Earth forsaking
Rooted where rested those that slew
The ire that was Chimera
Yet still they belong
Among the source of rain's showers.

Quaerunt ad nubem et lumem,
Nam illud es ubi luceant.