Chapter 29 melancholy
When the sky is heavy and drooping like a lid,
On the tired groaning heart,
When it surrounds the whole horizon,
The light of day pouring down darkness worse than night;
When the earth becomes a damp prison,
There, "Hope" is like a bat,
Beating the cell with cowardly wings,
Bumping headlong into the moldy ceiling again;
When the rain sheds endless filaments,
Like the bars of a prison,
When a group of silent and annoying gnats
come to the depths of our minds to weave,
At this time, the big clocks suddenly jumped into a rage,
Sending out waves of terrifying roars to the sky,
Like those homeless wandering ghosts,
So stubborn and stubborn, he began to wail.
—a long procession of hearses, without drums,
Slowly marching in my soul; "hope"
Weeping for failure, cruel and tyrannical "pain"
plant the black flag on my drooping skull