A futile gift, a gift of chance,
Life, why are you given me?
And whereby, through secret fate
For destruction you are doomed?
Who then, with hostile power
Called me from oblivion,
And filled up my soul with passion,
And disturbed my mind with doubt?
No design is there before me:
With empty heart and idle mind,
And I languish from the sadness
Of the constant noise of life.
Translated by Nick and Dimitri Derkatch