Perhaps you remember that moment of

sad winter moonlight when I made an agreement with you— 

whether the days of my life

would pass in poverty or prosperity

I would come one day like a whirlwind

in search of you

complain about the tyranny of the world 

and test the sincerity of my tears 

or to give a message of happiness

and receive the praise of my fidelity

if you had become someone else’s,

I would not let you live, nor live myself

I would make you drink the same

poison of life which I myself would drink

.

Today I break that agreement

Abandon this tradition of fidelity.

.

From: Yāden̲ (Remembrances), 1963. pp. 184 – 85