Keep thy aromatic form within the soil, Anointed in oils, To which the priests did select. You were given praise by those of God, For I am meager, in contrast. My love is nothing, it seems To His own. Reincarnate yourself, in His womb, In His paradise. Leave the rest behind In the dismal leaves, when times rewinds To see each memory upon those eyes. I soldier myself across the wastes Without you, in my arms. I face the grief, and the pain With only a beating shell. Nothing whole remains Upon the mountain of dirt, that is my bosom. It is hollow, It is shallow, Like the grave where I left you.