These are his final written words,
O death, go and strike my body: I have millions of bodies to live in. I will dress myself in the moonbeams, in the gauze made of fine silvery threads, and pass my time in tranquil rest. I will sing my songs in the form of hill streams and brooks, in the form of the rolling waves; I will move on. I am the soft-footed wind which walks on in ecstasy. I am the ever-gliding form which does on as time. I descend as waterfalls on the mountain slopes, reviving the faded plants. I made the roses burst into laughter. I made the nightingale sing her mournful ditties; I knocked at the doors and woke up the sleeping ones, wiping the tears of the one, blowing the veil from the face of the other. I teased those near and also far. I teased you too. See, I go, I go, with nothing in my possession, permitting nobody to touch me.