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All Doors Are Strongly Closed.

All stones are thrown on me,

All doors are strongly closed. 

I have neither bread nor my own home. 

I am beggar on a church porch.

But maybe suddenly somebody will understand me?

To me, just a kind glance would be enough.

Alas! Nobody will approach me, 

Nobody will give me either kindness or pity. 

But stones continue to fly at me,

And Lies, the murderer who appears so gentle

now wields a knife, smiling at me.

And the sky shivers from grief,

And stars are crying and falling.

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