Aches and complaints, you name ’em, I’ve gotten ’em, This day even singing sharpens my pain. Wish I could sink, like a sub, to the bottom, And send out signals never again. My friend poured drinks, though I kept refusing; He kept repeating, “This once shall pass.” He hooked me up with one of his floozies - “She’ll help thee, just like the booze in thy glass.” They’ve not helped me feel any less rotten, It made my head hurt, she made but scenes. Wish I could sink, like a sub, to the bottom, And disappear from all radar screens...        
© Akbar Muhammad. Translation, 2017
(akbarmuhammad.awardspace.co.uk)
[Adapted from Serge Elnitsky’s “To Sink to the Bottom”.]