| Through intricate motions ran |
| Stream and gliding sun |
| And all my heart seemed gay: |
| Some stupid thing that I had done |
| Made my attention stray. |
| Repentance keeps my heart impure; |
| But what am I that dare |
| Fancy that I can |
| Better conduct myself or have more |
| Sense than a common man? |
| What motion of the sun or stream |
| Or eyelid shot the gleam |
| That pierced my body through? |
| What made me live like these that seem |
| Self-born, born anew? |
| June 1932 |