Dejected soul, once anxious for the strife
Hope, whose spur fanned your ardor into flame
No longer wishes to mount you. Lie down shamelessly
Old horse who stumbles over every rut.
Resign your self my heart; sleep your brutish sleep
And time engulfs me minute by minute,
As the immense snow a stiffening corpse;
I survey from above the roundness of the globe
And I no longer seek there the shelter of a hut.
Avalanche, will you sweep me along in your fall?
