“The fire in my heart is turned to ashes.I feel like a monk;Only my head is still unshaven.O poor heart!How wind and rain have worn you out!How the partings from friends, dead and alive,Have torn you to pieces!This orphan-like candlestickAppears like an old friend to me.There remains one thing aloneThat keeps me from a complete Awakening:—Love still smoulders in the ashes of my heart!”