Entirely had forgot that death would visit me.
Alas! that shrillest notes have set my ears in flames,
And scorched my heart to shamelessness! Sad names!
Alas! the gamut’s intervals were heard all night.
The day has dawned; the caravan passed with the light.300
My God! Help, help! Me save from him who cries for help!
Protection I implore from self;—I, who thus yelp!
I never shall obtain my right, except through craft.
For craft is german more to me than self ingraft.
By craft this self itself doth rear across my way.