I curse the mockingbird,
  that sings to mock me. . .
I curse his song,
  that brings him joy and happiness. . .
Insuperable, ugly, disgusting song. . .
  mocks me for my loneliness
I curse the mocking bird and his mate. . .
   that laugh at me as they mate
I curse the mockingbird and its happiness. . .
   for in it, I see a past long gone with no future.

I curse myself
   for in my song
        I lost you
          I am
         αℓσηє