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.