07.07.2021
The Little Orphan*
My dear fellow prisonersI call for your attention,
because from my heart
I offer this veneration:
the woman I had adored
made a mockery of my love.
When I saw her treachery
it filled my soul with grief.
Better to not have been born
so as to not suffer an outcome
that is as sad as it is fateful,
of ending up a punching bag1
in a prison in which I now reside,
for it is a the cradle of evil -
my friends have forsaken me
and they call me a criminal.
A girl has been left
orphaned by her mother,
when she grows up they'll say
that her father was a criminal.
I don't want to remember
but it is far too late,
and if that should make me cry,
don't call me a coward for it.
Thirty years was my sentence
there was no clemency, woe is me
for only God knows of the misfortune
I suffered because of that wretched one,
I don't condemn my fate
it's the alcohol I drank that I condemn,
because of that damn wine
I became a murderer.
because of that damn wine
I became a murderer.
Why should I want to live
in the world of the living?
if what I want is to follow
out there into the unknown
my true love which I've lost,
the one for which I grieve still,
those who have never loved
would perhaps ridicule me.
those who have never loved
would perhaps ridicule me.
- 1. lit. 'prison meat'