If I knew that I would hold myself proudly
In prison and before courts:
I would roast and burn but still bear all
Resisting everything with my bare limbs!
If I knew that I would push away
The table with my feet, myself put on the noose
My soul would earn itself eternity
And my hangman weep after me.
But I fear that I would entreat
And weeping, kneel, betraying all.
So as to keep at least my naked life
And spit on everything, agree to anything.
Translated by Bernard Johnson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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