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.