I wonder, what manner of creature am I:
Animal, human, dead or alive.
Am I conscious, inanimate, gentle or harsh;
Am I part of the future, or part of the past?
Was I angel? Or demon? A guest of a host?
Will I one day be everything, nothing or ghost?
Am I crowned in the mind, or the heart, or the soul?
Do I most feel what’s shown to me, or that which is told?
Will I grow older, or shall I be young;
Is this life of mine over, or has it begun?
Of the secrets I’m keeping, the one which I know
Is the closest, the one which wherever I go
I keep with me: I’m yours. Only you understand.
What is truly the manner of creature I am.