Life shows you pain before the smiles
Even though youth has cried for innocence:
Outside the soul one bleeds and hides,
Inside the flesh one dies of nonsense.
When turning pages you see humble hopes:
The book of your life is already ended,
The sea you paint is without boats,
The land you plant is thoroughly cursed.
O, that you wish,
Steps away from you are!
The garden you live in is a grave where to be burned;
And dark shades in your eyes made the night of no star-
To fade out is a grace for those scars you have earned!
And perish all alone…
Like the fresh air in the cold,
Like an old tree the day of thirst,
Or a martyr when to burst…
That shame of your birth must be the same when to hold-
Those lies you tell:
As you are not only the first…