Fold your wings, my soul,
those wings you had spread wide to soar
to the terrestrial peaks where light is
most ardent: it is for you to simply waith
the descent of the Fire —
supposing it to be willing to take possession of you.
Sometimes a grief like storm-wind sweeps away
All the words I found to bring to you
I shake helpless, silent as a corpse
'Be happy' you say 'Now you are nothing'