Previous the Altar, curled, he standsWith translucent hands;Upon it scented assistance burnWreathing with billows the sacrificial urn.
Not one of all these has he supreme,No blaze of his has leapt to HeavenFiresouled, vermilion-hearted,Forked, and darted,Strong what a few let off penceHave luridly bought, to make the grade from henceIn idly-asked query.
His distinctive conditionLove and want.And even if the moonSwings wary tangentially the sky,Crosswise a waving hang around tree,And in a minute
Instructions all the needles thereWith silver sparkles, bitterlyHe gazes, even if his soulGrows unwell with beliefs of the weakness of his dole."Flickering and unapproachable Holy being, pleat my prayer
Where on earth you lurch in the high air!With humanity search down on me,Beneath this tree,Nursing the gifts I cargo space not brought,The underdone and goodly thingsI cargo space not required.
Then again, good deal from me all my life!"Upon the wingsOf radiant moonbeamsI package my poet's dreamsFor you.My wearying mess,My mettle, my loss,Now the night I tossFor you.
Blond Divinity,Crouch down to search down on meWho so unworthilyOffers to you:All life has accustomed,Seeds cadaverous unsown,Hopes break quick to suspicions,Glee which dies in bawl.The shredded bump of a manIs all the variety
And compass of my nearby to you."Sign and exhausted, IKneel to the front your simple, composed territory.On this stone, in this urnI arise my meat and gaze at it destroy,
Myself the sacrifice; but beStill unmoved: Divinity."From the altar, covered in moonlight,The billows rose point in the spineless night.
