A restless shadow of a fiddler's elbow Plays a tune to staggering feet The burden of his songs, the looking glass scorns At this disfigured, odious face
Indeed alone, hugging my breast The sun I neglect, in darkness I roam Offerings of flowers on a barren grave Where my body will lie, uncared and unwept
Idle bait, my shawl on the lattice Someone may see it, perhaps look my way No thread of sympathy unites me to man I lay softly down once again
Within my aged walls taunts and vexations Fragments of a tune play most mournfully With sadness in my voice I break the solemn stillness My drooping head falls on languid hands
Ancient of days, creator of life From the womb you have formed me, my vile sight you love Covered by your shadow, held within your hand Made within your likeness, precious am I?
The glare of a sinking flame binds me to my clay...
Offerings of flowers I rest in the earth My body will lie uncared and unwept