Here am I-breathing,
Working,
Living
And Writing my poetry
(My best to it giving).
Life and I glower
Across at each other,
and with it I struggle
with all my power

Life and I quarell,
But don't draw the moral
That I despise it.
No, just the opposite!
Though I should perish,
Life with its brutal
Claws of steel
Still I would cherish,
Still I would cherish!

Suppose round my neck they tie fast
The rope
And they ask:
'Would you like one more hour to live?'
I would instantly cry:
'Untie!
Untie!
Come, quickly untie
The rope, you devils!'

For Life there is nothing
would not dare.
I would fly
A prototype plane in the sky,
I'd climbe in a roaring
Rocket, exploring
Alone
In space
Distant
Planets.

Still would I feel
A joyous thrill
Gazing
Up
At the blue sky.
Still would I feel
A joyous thrill
To be alive,
To go on living.

But look, suppose
You took-how much?-
A single grain
From this my faith,
Then would I rage,
I would rage from pain
Like a panther
Pierced to the heart.

For what of me
Would there remain?
After the teft
I'd be distraught.
To put it plainly
And more directly-
aftre the teft
I would be naught.

Maybe you wish
You could erase
My faith
In happy days,
My faith
That tomorrow
Life will be finer,
Life will be wiser?

Pray, how will you smash it?
With bullets?
No! That is useless!
Stop! It is not worth it!

My faith has strong armour
In my sturdy breast,
And bullets able to shatter
My faith
Do not exist,
Do not exist!