THE THREE TEMPTATIONS
"What death would you desire?" She says: "A bronze death that yields a cloister for the heart; or that which is charter for a giant, a silver death; or that for which one must labor: one's sacrament, that's a death of gold?" Alas, how can your pilgrim choose? Always there's the hissing of fire-- On my neck creeps the salamander! But here on this steadfast ground earth whereon the mighty have fallen, gnomes choir a bronze hymn to you and yet could I but rear for myself-- a giant's head far from all solitude-- O how the undine's luster shall flood into my silver sepulcher! For it is fate out of gorges between sheer cliffs that gives us wings for pilgrimage and you who dance like a scented sylph on the winds have not, have not the golden character of grace and should you but pray for me 'a fine and private place' plucked up for this death, my death, that's golden to you alone I give my only name-- "Oh, now, what death would you...