Sonnet (IX) : Flesh o flesh ! The momentous , the mortal , the doomed

Flesh o flesh ! The momentous , the mortal , the doomed
Made of fire , air , ether , earth and water of some dying spring ,
In you I dwell , rejoice , and feel blessed and the bloomed
Me the supreme consciousness , the eternal , the immortal being .
Without you o mortal , I am a wanderer , the cursed , the lone
To live till eternity , without any beginning without any the end ,
I am blessed in you , as a traveler with moments past me gone
Slipping from hollow of "my" hands like the uncatchable sand .
In you I feel the blessing of birth and glory of the mortal’s death
“My” senses enjoy pain and pleasure of being THE MORTAL GOD ,
Filling “my” soul with gratitude and lowering ”my” head in the debt
So shame on “me” of “this birth” if “I” don’t pay off rent of this abode .
What value of “me” if I don’t return a flesh for this abode of the flesh ,
And don’t let another consciousness to enjoy the glory of mortal’s ash ?