Now, at dawn, my legs defy me;
I hear rustling, movement and sound, but no one is around.
Without words, without music - without my joy!
Hardly, with the torment of the morning, I straighten up strongly;
back hurts, spine is quietly getting crazy,
and my neck is as stiff as a Doric pillar.
I move the blanket and myself off the dark bed.
Oh, help me right now, angry day,
even before I asked, if grace bothers you only slightly.
Coldness of night crept into my bones,
and great frost knocks on the windows of the house.
Is winter coming, that late time, so early and furious?
Dressed as if I were born of a mother, I dress myself layer by layer:
one warm, next one warmer.
Soon hidden from view and invisible to other people's eyes,
I'm covered with many beats.
O old heart, which thou hast faithfully beaten behind my breast for years,
I say in silence: just fight a little longer, my good, old friend.
