Tell a wise knight, or else keep silent,
because the pawn will mock it right away.
I praise what is truly alive,
what longs to be burned to death.
In the calm water outside the castle,
where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
a strange feeling comes over you,
when you see the silent bishop burning.
Now you are no longer caught in the obsession with darkness,
and a desire for higher love-making sweeps you upward.
Distance does not make you falter.
Now, arriving in magic, flying,
and finally, insane for the light,
you are the queen and you are gone.
And so long as you haven’t experienced this: to die and so to grow,
you are only a troubled king on the dark earth.