I have nothing but my sorrow, and I want nothing more. It has been, it still is, faithful to me.

Why should I begrudge it, since during the hours, when my soul crushed the depths of my heart, it was seated there beside me?

O sorrow, I have ended, you see, by respecting you, because I am certain you will never leave me. Ah, I realize it: your beauty lies in the force of your being.

Because I know that on the day of my final agony, you will be there, lying in my sheets, O sorrow, so that you might once again attempt to enter my heart.