"This is the spot where I will lie When life has had enough of me, These are the grasses that will blow Above me like a living sea.These gay old lilies will not shrink To draw their life from death of mine, And I will give my body's fire To make blue flowers on this vine.O Soul, I said, have you no tears? Was not the body dear to you? I heard my soul say carelessly, The myrtle flowers will grow more blue."
Flower
Life
Soul