Golden Bird —
One of the mightiest of seraphs
Stood by my side in the dark hour.

And he said:
The path of air of the singing bird is not for a mortal ...
On that path one is blown into stellar storms and nebulous cyclone ...
One is not a man, but a voice,
Not a soul, but a music ...

Take then the path of earth,
Of common things, of daily burdens, of human loves ...
That is the path to immortality ...
On that path man passes beyond the earth and beyond death
Into completion ...

I heard the seraph ...
I weighed the penalty ...
And Golden Bird, I heard a note from your throat dropping in a crimson twilight,
And what was death then and mortality,
And what incompletion?

I come, Golden Bird,
And shall follow you till my eyes darken and my heart stops,
And nothing goes on of me but a deathless music.