Led by my own will, I ruled !

Traces on a muddy path, I ruled !

The soul of a tree I got

paroxysm, megalomania, all ended so sadly.



The ictus of the last shovelful on my coffin's

wooden breastbone

...won't be my death



as a man ; as a soul ; as a king never begged

mine is the beauty of the earth

mine shall be the end...

...and I'm gone



kiss my icy lips at last,

idem still am I

burn these icing flowers for the past that has

gone

still, it has been cried far from the heyday my

star