By day and night dream about happy death, 
Poor dog give your heart room, drag at the chain, 
Breathe deep at dawn, wish it were the last breath, 
Imagine the leaden ball planted in the brain, 
The seed of that superb flower, dream the brave noose 
That loves the neck so dearly it lets the life loose, 
Dream the fierce joys of war where men like drunken 
Jesuses fling the supreme gift at each other, 
œTake blessedness, take it deep in your breast, brother . . .
œDream on, dream all these joys, life might look shrunken 
In lack of dreams. Give your wish light, give it room. 
You know you will never untimely attempt the tomb. 
- Go in to your bride by daylight before the crowd 
As if sweet death were a whore? You are too proud.