I ASK FOR A moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil. To-day the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove. Now it is time to sit quiet, face to face with thee, and to sing dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure.
O FIRE, MY brother, I sing victory to you. You are the bright red image of fearful freedom. You swing your arms in the sky, you sweep your impetuous fingers across the harp-string, your dance music is beautiful. When my days are ended and the gates are opened you will burn to ashes this cordage of hands and feet. My body will be one with you, my heart will be caught in the whirls of your frenzy, and the burning heat that was my life will flash up and mingle itself in your flame.
