I will deck thee with trophies, garlands 

of my defeat. It is never in my power

to escape unconquered.

    I surely know my pride will go to the 

wall, my life will burst its bonds in ex-

ceeding pain, and my empty heart will 

sob out in music like a hollow reed, and

the stone will melt in tears.

    I surely know the hundred petals of

a lotus will not remain closed for ever 

and the secret recess of its honey will 

be bared.

    From the blue sky an eye shall gaze

upon me and summon me in silence.

Nothing will be left for me, nothing 

whatever, and utter death shall I receive 

at thy feet.