Translated from the Hebrew By Rebecca A. Altman.
My tears, I know, tears shed in lone despair,Will not move the hearts of men nor rouse their care.E'en as a voice is futile in the wilderness,Vain is my weeping and my wild distress;For tears that flow for ages without stayAre powerless to melt men's hearts to-day;Then, why, O wretched heart, dost seek in vainTo find in weeping, solace—rest, in pain?
Like a desert reed, abandoned, all alone,Sing I my song and my lament intone.O Lord, my God! how tired am I of tears, how tired!Never for a vainer cause were tears inspired—I am tired of mourning world-wrongs in tragic rhymes,And weep for him who has been wept a thousand times.Hast Thou no cure for us, O wondrous Lord, we pray;Ward Thine anger off and wipe the tears away!
From out mine window I extend mine head,I call unto the storm, and counsel him in dread,I delve into the darkness bleak and towards the stars I gaze;Is there no end to darkness, no limit to this maze?Shall not the clouds disperse and soon the storm subside?Shall not the stars arise—glow 'bout the moon in pride?I look upon the earth and gaze again on high—. No sound, no vision—save the storm's weird cry.
From birth God destined me for poverty and woe;He gave to me a staff and saith: "Forth go!"Go seek thy verdict—it is lost among men's lies,Go purchase air for breathing—and light steal for thine eyes,Go from door to door and stand with downcast head—Prostrate thyself before the great and beg them for thy bread."Ah, my strength is spent with wandering, my knees from weakness bend,Oh, God, this weary journey, will it never, never end?
Like filth have I been cast upon the offal; e'en from infancy, Wrapped in rags, unwashed and unattended, all trampled over me; To me a sorrowing mother extended a dry breast— I drained its venom and never more knew rest.