He lost his way, and finding it,
Finds no abode… life’s cruel…
He again wants to find the way,
And he rebels against the rule…
...
To the unknown brother-in arms
You fight against your own body,
You crave for training your will,
...
A worthless man demands justice,
Complains of his misery to God,
Of those who, cause him trouble…
He forgets that he is a fraud.
...
He is born exhausted and tired,
He wishes to go back, to retire.
He is born with a shadow of vague sadness.
And appears a space – empty and helpless…
...
Teasing oneself
Fall in, take places in the rank,
...
The tiny bird has to feign death,
She’s lucky if she isn’t caught…
I’ve heard that a kite, too,
Is afraid of such lot…
...
The malady can be healed by madness…
He plays a fool, but he is a sage.
The time of such wisdom has come,
He preaches the wisdom of age.
...
“It’s so trying to live without you…
Love is such a painful thing,
That my life is wasted away, ”
This way the little birdie sings.
...
The sacred fruit of the fancy
Flowed down,
Temped the heart,
Made it rebel…
...
He seeks all those who were lost,
All those, who had left him.
Many remained just toastmasters,
Some fell down from the hill…
...