I sense the shadow of death.
I know that our fates lay in piles on the table of the Norns.
I know that not one drop of rain is sucked by the ground
without having been written in the book of eternal times.
I know as certainly as I know that the sun rises
that I shall never see the breathless moment it reaches the zenith.
The future casts its blessed shadows on me;
it is only streaming sun:
pierced by light I must die,
when I’ve trampled all chance events with my foot
I shall turn my back on life, smiling.