Oh this melody
I am lamenting
Oh this song I sing
As with sack cloth and ashes
Face in the warm dirt of the spring
Eaten the rotten fruit
From the seed weakness can bring
Swallowed it so bitter
I am undeserving
'A good for nothing slave'
'I am what I am'
Yes 'A miserable man'
A spirit broken
A spirit crushed
A joyful song that is hushed
What shout does a slave give forth
Other than that of humilty
No longer looking for refreshment
Or of pity
I dont belong to me
I am unworthy
'A good for nothing slave'
'I am what I am'
This 'A miserable man'
A sorrowful soul
Why is it that I still breathe
With no more tears to cry
And no more blood to bleed
No thirst or hunger
With no more life to feed
No right to need
Yet I have the wisdom not to ask
Not to ask to be freed
A willing slave
'I am what I am'
This 'A miserable man'
Brought low and afraid
Look only to you to be saved
And so I sigh
A Dirge of a miserable slave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem