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Look at the candle, as its life is bought, |
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as the wick just rolls over and dies; |
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look at the wax-drops as they cease from their goal |
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and the game they were playing loses its joy |
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and the youth which they played in runs away. |
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How long will you be gone? |
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Flame sucks at air now and its breath comes short |
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as it wavers to half its size; |
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vacuum closes in and it attacks the soul. |
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Now the force, omnipotent itself, is destroyed |
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and for lack of itself it wanes away. |
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How long will you be gone? |
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So does my mind fly as I fight my thought |
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and I lose, for I cannot find: |
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send my eyes long miles, they do not know home. |
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For the life I was part of breathes its last |
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and not only life but hope has gone away. |
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How long will you be gone? |
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How long will you be gone? |
