Yesterday, tomorrow, today
suffering for everything,
my heart is a sad goldfish bowl,
a pen of dying nightingales.

I have plenty of heart.

Today I rip out my heart,
I who have a bigger heart than anyone
and having that, I am the bitterest also.

I don’t know why, I don’t know how or why
I let my life keep on going every day.

translated by Robert Bly