It was my own bowels that I used for a belt.
And it was my scalp, and my own hair, that I used for sandals.
It was my own skull that I filled with my own blood, and drank from, and talked like a drunkard.
And I wandered where the ashes are dumped, and I wandered over the hills, and I found it could be done, and went to the shadows of the trees and found the same thing.
On the level ground I fell, and the Sun, the Traveller, was overhead, and from above my brother came down, and I tried to hug him, but only hugged myself.
And I thought I was holding all sadness, but there was a yet stronger sadness, for my brother came down and stood on my breast, and the tears fell down and watered the ground.
And I tried to hug him, but only hugged myself.
And this was my desire, that I should go to the powerful woman, and I reached her quietly where she lived.
And I spoke to her this way:
‘You were living over there.