Should I ever come to the end of my road,
when I  meet the doorman of death,
I shall hope that he care just enough to heed my last request.

I would not pray for hope, nor life, nor freedom.

I should ask him, "Dear Death,
might you listen to me now?

I beg to find my final breath
upon Earth's broken brow;

the crashing waves, day or night,
the pum'ling seaside cloud,

the falling rocks, their endless plight,
and distant ******* growls,

the fading sun, the rising moon;
I even feel their gaze.

Dear Death, I shall not wait the more,
please take me where I lay."