Tears from the eyelids, the mourners’ pain,
endless pain and transparent tears.
He asks for nothing, he is not numb,
saddened in prison and saddened when free.
It is a bleak time, it is a black night
one you wouldn’t entrust even to the blind. The strong
fall, power rests in the hands of the weak,
and the king stands, beside the seated queen.
Smiles and sighs, insults rot
in the mouth of the mute and in the eyes of the forsaken.
Touch nothing! Here it burns, there it scorches;
these hands are for pockets and foreheads.
A shadow …
All the misfortune in the world
and my love cling together
like a naked beast.
