The uselessness of my existence,

The hopelessness which has given rise to pain,

My flesh is suffering as if it is in the hell,

And my soul is looking forward to be in the paradise.

I can�t grant respite to the flesh,

And I can�t sweetly lie to my soul,

Because it�s not me on whom the pain�s outbreak depends,

And it is not me from whom the paradise comes.

I am only a go-between, it is a temporary role, which I must play,

And then vanish in the dark, which is understood as die.

But I don�t feel myself as if I am at home here on the earth,

And I don�t feel myself comfortably in the paradise,

And the hell is so far from the desire of my heart too.