I dreamed I was dying last night,
Making will for my son by my side.
I was seeing as whole what were once
Just some trivial sights for my eyes.
Little bird with its wings my brow fanned,
Sun set down behind hills to have rest,
Neither pain did I feel of some kind,
Neither vision or mist covered eyes,
Neither sleepiness weighed down my head,
Neither sorry was I for my self.
But I felt I could cry outloud:
- Wait, oh day, cut not short, please, my life!
And I worried: they mourned my demise,
Boy, I thought, what a shame, do not die!
Thus in deference such and distrust
Was supposed I to take leave of life.
While I watched people standing in rows
How I wished to get right to their thoughts!
Saw that friends same as foes thought me high,
Grown up men and a child wept alike…
As I dreamed I was dying last night
Death crept up to my bed, woke me up.