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When the last shadow comes to douse the white
radiance of day, it well may close my eyes;
it may unbind my soul, so that it flies
free, toward its eager wish, full of delight;

but soul will not abandon in its flight
memory, where it burned: my flame is wise,
knows how to swim the icy stream, and rise
to disobey the law more stern than right.

My soul, for whom the cell god’s will has been;
veins that have, for so long, nurtured such fire;
my very core, gloriously lit within,

will let the body go, but not desire;
will be ashes, but sentient as when skin;
will be dust, but dust in love upon the pyre.

Francisco de Quevedo: Love That Endures Beyond Death