You came here to suffer from the first cry
And that I have given for whatever you try
And that you surely will have no matter
So, be prepared you soft nut under my hammer
I crack you to pieces with a smile on my face
Grow yourself back and I'll crush you again,
'Till you are slain with the hardest pain
I will throw you to birds when you suffer no more
Their laugh of the feast
Is the last thing you hear at all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem