The stars were hung on iron wires
cold - the light they shed was cold
the moon glid past, a blue balloon
the mountains - giants turned to stone
the world was made of myth, you know
of solid fire, water, rock,
suspended in midair upon
a vast celestial turtle's back
or something of the kind, at least.
Into this world, we both were born
- oh, all the myths had changed by then!
but we've made some to call our own.