"Yee, bards! Draw out your quills with thirsty silver feathers And fill this cup of loneliness! Let’s raise it to the heavens! O, you, forever thriving hearts, like beggars peeled off leathers, - In such a wilderness, your presence brings the lofty ravens! How to not feel such lore, by noble paths of life, you mighty bards, When all the earthly kings bow down their heraldry to taste A glimpse of peace, from everlasting fragrance, in their yards, As if their fame, or treasures, withers, for a silence’s waste!?.. Yee, bards! You seal my broken heart, with chants of golden harps, To soothe this weeping, roaring beast who lurks into the darkness! O, let me grieve along my dying muse, as nightingale enwraps Such ravishing remembrance that I so ought to harness in my madness! For nothing else, now matters – in such pursuit of happiness, to be Alike a shadow in the mist, without a purpose – banished forever From such a cruel word in which my fate resides; my love for thee, Has split, within our shared grave; - and so I weep, I weep, I weep: Yee, bards, take me along your path, for this silence I endeavour!.. "