Hey, lament, if I may call you so
would you come here to bring your sorrow?

Fragrance, do you have things to tell?
I would breathe in your poisoned smell.

How many curtains! But none that hangs.
I feel my head, lungs and heart have pangs.

That's for the drinks I had to take.
Maybe for all that I can take.

For fasting there is a believer.
I stubbornly think of a dinner.

I'm hungry! Who cares if I ate
the tears and the fear and the hate.

I'm also thirsty. I'll drink my pail
of blizzard, rainstorm and the hail

and after getting tired from it
I fall asleep on this couplet.

But lament, why am I saying so
would you come here to bring your sorrow?