A Man's Renown Is Like The Hue

He Who Know Most Grieves Most For Wasted Time.

Not One Drop Of Blood Is Left Inside My Veins That Does Not Throb: I Recognize Signs Of The Ancient Flame.

Will Cannot Be Quenched Against Its Will.

All Your Renown Is Like The Summer Flower That Blooms And Dies; Because The Sunny Glow Which Brings It Forth, Soon Slays With Parching Power.

In That Book Which Is My Memory, On The First Page Of The Chapter That Is The Day When I First Met You, Appear The Words, ‘here Begins A New Life’.