When I lingered among my hoarded treasure I felt like a worm that
feeds in the dark upon the fruit where it was born.

I leave this prison of decay.

I care not to haunt the mouldy stillness, for I go in search of
everlasting youth; I throw away all that is not one with my life
nor as light as my laughter.

I run through time and, O my heart, in your chariot dances the
poet who sings while he wanders.



X

You took my hand and drew me to your side, made me sit on the
high seat before all men, till I became timid, unable to stir and
walk my own way; doubting and debating at every step lest I
should tread upon any thorn of their disfavour.

I am freed at last!

The blow has come, the drum of insult sounded, my seat is laid
low in the dust.

My paths are open before me.

My wings are full of the desire of the sky.