They say an automaton lives here. High above the city when the lights go out, his lights embellish his small cabin and some smoke puffs out of his lungs.
Hearsay has told me to avoid this place, at night, when the automaton awakes.
At day, you might say that this place is rather cheerful, but don't be fooled for the automaton may know you.
Observing at night, and sleeping at day, he watches the city when its lights have extinguished.
Hawking his wheel, the turner of time, the automaton lives, the ruler of nine
Nine days have passed since when I first glimpsed him from below his monstrous machine
Preoccupied with turning the time, the automaton whispered and twinkled at me
Shocked to have made a link with the automaton, was I
At night his machine, the wheel of time is shrouded in inexplicableness
It's best you take care to avoid it
For people have been known to vanish
Yet I say, that those who have wandered here and there, have not vanished from here
But rather from time.
For the automaton with his willful machine is the master of time, the ruler of nine