Peacefully towards the skies
Only if you bear in mind
That when you go to the sun,
Your dark shadow is behind.
Silent slave whom the grim lord
Summons by a silent gesture,
He takes heed, humble and awed,
Of the slightest beckoning,
And keeps everything well scored.
He's your bondman when your flight
Is directed to the sun;
He hurts not, he's out of sight;
Holy rays surround your forehead,
And you do advance in light.
But your shadow councils ill
When you leave the sun behind;
He will cloud your face until
Your keen eyes become purblind --
He is nothing but ill-will!
Shadow, sun, shrine, smoke, and glow!
Useless is my tale, unless
You have understood it. So --
You may choose! You are just starting;
I have long been on the go.