Minstrel
He said——
(The Minstrel sings.)
The Spring flowers have woven my wreath of victory,
The South wind breathes its breath of fire in my blood.
The voice of the house-corner wails in vain from behind.
Death stands before me, offering its crown.
The tempest of youth sweeps the skyharp with its fingers;
My heart dances in its wild rhythm.
Gathering and storing are not for me,
I spend and scatter.
And prudence and comfort bid me adieu in despair.
But where has he gone to?
Minstrel
He said, "I cannot keep waiting by the wayside any longer. I must go and meet him, and conquer him."
But which way did he take?
Minstrel
He has entered the cave.