No man lives so poor as he was born We don't remember pure sensations Gaze peacefully into the past I am dust , and to dust I shall return Belial, Mephisto, both shall burn me up Devour my sad whimperings The cutting whip is mine to feel No symphony in mind to colour my dreams
Poena damni Sorrow everywhere Please pray for me When deep sleep falls on men Father hold me I am yours to bear!
