Iím feeling shivery again. My heart
Is rumbling like a boulder in a barrel:
A vicious rogue is living in my blood,
With horny, hairy hands of a big scoundrel.
When, noticing my anguish, people say
Reproachfully: "Heíll take to drinking",
I cannot get along with him. No way.
He breathes, in my stead, while I am shrinking.
Heís not my double nor another me, -
No use to give a stupid explanation.
He is my flesh and blood. How can it be?
It is beyond all imagination.
Heís waiting till I finish up my twine,
When he can use my hand to write the summery,
And I become a prudent, ruthless swine
Betraying everybody, all and sundry.
I do not want to look for an excuse,
My life may fade, go past, dissolve or harden;
But I will not excuse myself when, cutting loose,
He gets a hold on me, all of a sudden.
But I will summon all my power and strength,
This time he wonít elude and dodge it:
Iíll swallow poison, let him gorge it
And turn to dust, - Iíve cheated him at length!