I long, with blood and bone, to carve my name br Deep into the tree of glowing thought; br To set my words in wood eternal grown br So deep that time cannot wear them away. br My blood and bone cry out with years of longing br Trembling, aching, yearning with each breath br To make a mark in time that time can’t touch. br Every day sees my heart grow stronger br In resolve to carry out this task, br But every day sees time grow all the stronger br Determined to crush me back to earth. br My carving knives I clench between my teeth br And stand at the foot of that glorious tree, br Gazing up at the place I have chosen for me br But still I stand deep entrenched in mire: br The mire and murk of time holds me down. br And every day we each of us grow stronger, br Time in its resolve, my heart in mine, br And neither giving sway unto the other br Nor breaking free in triumph all at once. br And yet, though we stay head-on-head, br Time is the wiser, and I the weak, br For time knows it need not pull ahead br But stay just strong enough to hold me back. br If I cannot beat it down ere long, br My longing then will all have been in vain. br If I could just beat it down and climb, br And carve with mighty strokes upon that tree, br Then will I at last greet time and sleep. br But if I fail, and the mire draws me in, br I shall sleep uneasy for all time.