Tête-d'or: Though every heart should glut itself with anguish it shall not shake me for mine is full to the brim!
I killed him scarcely seeing him, like a partridge shot in a dream,
Or as the hurrying traveller pulls up an importunate fern.
—I have said what I had to say and soon
I shall announce to you what we shall undertake.
My time is at hand.
Like the arch of the rainbow my glory shall rise above the world,
Announcing to those who see it the birth of a new day!
I breathe you again! I worship you, sweet perfume of victory!
Rose, give me your scent! Sun, cover your face in your bed of celestial down!