And covers my stock of existence with ashes.
My fate must needs be deplored; 1205
Dost thou know what is the gist of my being?
Thou art a condensed wavelet of smoke,
Endowed with the properties of a single spark;
Both in feature and nature thou art star-like,
Splendours rise from every side of thee. 1210
Now thou becom’st the light of a monarch’s eye,
Now thou adornest the haft of a dagger.”
“O sagacious friend!” said the diamond,