I sing in praise of the loser
for the winner is well lauded,
I kneel before the forlorn
I bow before the beaten.
The world-quitter creates,
discovers self-state in dreams;
the reality-bearer holds
strength and stature untold.

I sing in praise of the loser
and for the have-not’s joy;
I crown the outcast, pressing
my lips to that high brow –
to those who carry clarity
of absence all their days,
both lightly and upright,
I am true to the core.