And if we do not reach that spirit realm,
Where bodyless each soul may ages whelm
With joy unutterable; still we live,
With bodies knew upon dear Earth, and give
Our newer life to children with our blood. 
Or if these blessings we should miss; in wood,
Or glen, or garden, field, or emerald seas,
Our forms shall spring again; in such as these
We see around us throbbing with sweet life,
In trees or flowerets.

This needs no belief
On which to base the fabric of a dream,
For Earth her children from death doth redeem,
And each contributes to continuous bloom;
So go your way! ye sisters, to your gloom!

Far on their road have come the king of fame
And seer, within the land of Mas[5] they came,
Nor knew that Fate was hovering o’er their way,
In gentle converse they have passed the day. 
Some twenty kaspu o’er the hills and plain,
They a wild forest in the mountain gain,
In a deep gorge they rode through thickets wild,
Beneath the pines; now to a pass they filed,
And lo! two dragons[6] near a cave contend
Their path! with backs upreared their coils unbend,
Extend their ravenous jaws with a loud roar
That harshly comes from mouths of clotted gore.

The sky overhead with lowering clouds is cast,
Which Anu in his rage above them massed. 
Dark tempests fly above from Rimmon’s breath,
Who hovers o’er them with the gods of death;
The wicked seven winds howl wildly round,
And crashing cedars falling shake the ground. 
Now Tsil-lattu her black wings spreads o’er all,
Dark shrouding all the forest with her pall,
And from his steed for safety each dismounts,
And o’er their heads now break the ebon founts. 
But hark! what is that dreadful roaring noise? 
The dragons come!  Their flaming crests they poise
Above, and nearer blaze their eyes of fire,
And see! upon them rush the monsters dire.

The largest springs upon the giant Sar,
Who parrying with the sword he used in war,
With many wounds it pierces, drives it back;
Again it comes, renews its fierce attack,
With fangs outspread its victims to devour,
High o’er the monarch’s head its crest doth tower,
Its fiery breath upon his helm doth glow.

Exposed its breast! he strikes! his blade drives through
Its vitals!  Dying now it shakes the ground,
And furious lashes all the forest round. 
But hark! what is that awful lingering shriek
And cries of woe, that on his ears wild break? 
A blinding flash, see! all the land reveals,
With dreadful roars, and darkness quick conceals
The fearful sight, to ever after come
Before his eyes, wherever he may roam. 
The King, alas! too late Heabani drags
From the beast’s fangs, that dies beneath the crags
Overhanging near the cave.  And now a din
Loud comes from dalkhi that around them spin
In fierce delight, while hellish voices rise
In harsh and awful mockery; the cries
Of agony return with taunting groans,
And mock with their fell hate those piteous moans.