Fire Beyond The Sky's Edge

O fire beyond the sky's last turning,
You rekindle in me an old yearning:
To see what lies beyond your burning.

Should I find the ghosts of old friends
Waiting for me where the sky ends?
Where heaven's horizon to earth bends?

Should I find a country made of song,
Where the shadows lie forever long,
And all the hues of sunset are strong?

Or should I find but a wasteland of fire,
Where none could survive but pure desire,
Where none could go but to soar higher?

O fire beyond the sky's last edge,
Have I a reason to hem and hedge,
Or must I cast myself from the ledge?

Do you hide truly only a land of flame,
Where nothing lives that knows a human name,
And I could refuse to go without fear of shame?

Or do you hide a land of loveliness,
Where the greatest grief would find redress,
And memory puts an end to loneliness?

Yet I wonder, watching more and more,
If even if I knew it dangerous by lore,
I could refuse that last fiery shore.

Is it not the duty of one of poet's art
To go into the fire, to the world depart,
And let the visons come into his heart?

How much greater, then, the duty,
If his life and not his heart be booty,
If his heart would be immortal in beauty?

O fire beyond the sky's last turning,
Someday I will gratify my yearning:
To see what lies beyond your burning.