Let my heiress have full rights,<br />Live in my house, sing songs that I composed.<br />Yet how slowly my strength ebbs,<br />How the tortured breast craves air.<br />The love of my friends, my enemies' rancor<br />And the yellow roses in my bushy garden,<br />And a lover's burning tenderness—all this<br />I bestow upon you, messenger of dawn.<br />Also the glory for which I was born,<br />For which my star, like some whirlwind, soared<br />And now falls. Look, its falling<br />Prophesies your power, love and inspiration.<br />Preserving my generous bequest,<br />You will live long and worthily.<br />Thus it will be. You see, I am content,<br />Be happy, but remember me.