Wherever life would lead along its road,
we demonstrate, as theorems, the same –
for someone wait great deeds and higher fame,
for all the others - waits a heavy load.
Say, what was wrong in our native home?
But once again the simple truth’s rejected,
we pull down all, we’ve built, to foundation,
and stay in smoldering ruins, not erected.
There is a crowd already by the doors
of exit. In the end a queue of sophists.
God help us to forgive the stray blind guides,
God help us to forgive the deaf mute prophets!
And God permit to see the light at times,
when our soul will not respond to call,
just when fast-flowing waters of oblivion
will close up over us – and fall.