It's a stage---a stage in a dream---where the actors have nothing to do. There a smiling destiny fuses dreaming with being.

Dreamed scenery,
deceive him!
Action don't take place!
Fool the one who made you,
O fictions of the interlude!

And may the soul live in ethereal
detachment,
forgetting about life,
which is womanish and plebeian,
and death,
which isn't anything!