Tired, I lost hope,
Suitable dark melancholy.
Was white clean clothes,
Hand trembled quiet.
"You're not here? Valley drowned
The hopeless, in wakeless dream…
you went, He touched and breathed, –
Freedom Day tomorrow I?»
"I went down, you'll be up in the morning,
At dawn you leave your sleep,
Disappear without a trace, all forget, –
you wake up, newly released ".
1 April 1902
