I wait if I have to, go when driven off,
my remaining modesty silenced me though,
the sound of my voice would not reach you anyway,
better to keep quiet about my complaints.
I suffer, tire out with obedience:
Isaac didn't ask his father, I don’t ask you either
why you keep tormenting me, while I silently do
what’s left for me, the obedient servant, to do.
By no means is there response to my resentment:
why did you feed me, not enough, nevertheless?
Why did you bedazzle me for many a daylight
if your radiance was not to become my sunshine?
After my death, while resting on your heart,
everything you've done to me, I will complain about,
I will have, at long last, a good cry in your arms,
aloud, with no consolation, I will only cry!
You have never loved me, not for one moment,
you may have given me food but never yourself,
I will cry forever for all the anxiety
I’ve had for you, myself, from here to eternity!
I am crying with you forever and ever,
as your hold is becoming more and more violent,
as my embrace is becoming tighter and tighter,
becoming happier as well as unhappier.
Translated by: Maria Bencsath