Why was I created human?

Why could I not rain invest?

I could be a string of beads

draped upon a cloud's white breast.

If I were snow upon the ground,

I would not have been betrayed

The Master then would not have left:

in his world, I could have stayed.

He'd have raised me as his child

in his home up in the sky.

I would not need to be cautious

living with him there on high.

As a lover of the sun

I'd discourage dying there.

High and low I could enjoy

both parts of my rightful share.

I would have loved so very much

turning all the world to crops,

wetting all the tender flowers

by my sweat, all crystal drops.

Open to the moon by night,

open to the sun by day,

to all within my dying world

I would give my life away.

Even if I turned to snow,

no flame of hope would be erased.

So my death would turn to life

whatever destiny I faced.

Reborn nature's tender arms

would wrap me in a warm embrace.

- 1913