1. Where, O people, is your throbbing, sensitive heart?
Where is your ambition and dreams?

2. Where, O people, is your poetic, artistic soul?
Where is imagination and inspiration?

3. Where, O people, is your magical, creative art?
Where are drawings and melodies?

4. Where does life roar around you,
So where is the daring, bold one?

5. Where is the will for life, nothing but
Death, silence, sorrow and darkness?

6. A dead age and an empty heart,
And blood not stirred by pain,

7. And a life that sleeps in the gloom of the valley
And grows above it illusions.

8. What is this life and what living is this?
Many a living is lighter than a dove.

9. Seasons passed around you and sang to you,
But you did not rejoice nor murmur.

10. And storms and gales blew over you
Until you almost fell apart.

11. And beasts roamed around you and woke you,
But you were not disturbed nor hurt.

12. My God, don't you feel, don't you sing,
Don't you complain, don't you speak?

13. The river of time has filled your dead days
And the ruins of your crumbling age.

14. You are neither dead to decay nor alive to walk,
But a being not understood.

15. Forever staring into the void with
A frozen eye that sees no worlds in the dark.

16. What sorcery has bespelled you? Are you enchanted?
Unfortunate? Or mocking demon?

17. Alas! But you are in nations an old
Shattered philosopher in his cloak.

18. The passion of youth died in his withered heart
And the will for life faded from his nerves.

19. So he went seeking peace far
In the graves of time behind its hills.

20. And there he chose to remain with the dead
In the grave of his yesterday, uncaring.

21. And was content with the grave as a dwelling
Where the days of his similar life vanish.

22. And forgot life and devastated time
And what was of his old ambitions.

23. So stick to the grave for it is a home like you
In the silence of its heart and its ruins.

24. And worship the past and remember images of the old days
For the world of the old is the memory of his youth.

25. And if life, beautiful as a flower, fresh as youth itself,
Passed around you singing of longing and will,

26. It would revive the heart of the inanimate with its song.
And charming spring, its lovesick poet,

27. Tempts with its love and passion.
It has adorned death with the spells of life

28. Far from its magic and echo.
So be enchanted by the magic of your early days

29. And let life walk its path.
And if the birds rose at dawn

30. Singing in beautiful meadows,
And revived life and the living world

31. With the voice of sweet love,
And the beautiful butterfly fluttered in the garden

32. Whispering to its blooming flowers,
And existence awoke to fruitful, glorious work,

33. To endeavor and noble meanings,
And people walked in ravines and in woods

34. And above unknown paths.
Seeking beauty, light, joy and happiness,

35. And glory, noble life.
Then lower your gaze in the darkness and beware

36. The temptation of light for it is a fearful vision.
And the dawn of life does not wake the dead

37. Nor pity the tired eyelids.
Everything sympathizes with the living world

38. And kindles its life and benefits it.
He who does not respond to the universe with feeling

39. Is a burden on existence, his existence.
Everything goes along with passing time

40. With resolve, even dust and its insects.
Everything except you is living, kind,

41. Comforting the universe, its longing and singing.
So why do you live in the world, O old one,

42. When there is no gain in you that benefits it?
You, old man, are not suited for life,

43. You are a disease that destroys it and it destroys you.
You are an infernal wasteland, cursed,

44. Dark, desolate, bleak is your immobility.
Life does not quiver in it, no bird sings,

45. No clouds water it.
You, priest of darkness, are a life

46. That worships death. You are a wretched soul,
Unbelieving in life and light, your stony heart

47. Does not heed the universe.
You are a heart without longing or resolve,

48. And this is the chronic disease of life.
You are a world shadowed by the horizon of the past

49. And the night of eternal gloom.
In it time and the universe died but for

50. Its bygone, ancient, distant yesterday.
And wretched, wretched on earth is a heart

51. Whose day is dead and its past is alive.
You are nothing in existence, so leave it

52. For death, for it has no need of you.
You are life, O priest of darkness,

53. That worships death. You are a wretched soul,
Unbelieving in life and light, your stony heart

54. Does not heed the universe.
You are a heart without longing or resolve,

55. And this is the chronic disease of life.
You are a world shadowed by the past horizon