It feels as if I had blue blood in my veins
I must belong to the aristocracy, I hunt foxes and hares
acquire land, hold court
take over the gallery and stand on my rights,
but Death the proletarian stalks me close
there is a crack: an accidental shot, merely grazes me
the red blood betrays me, my outermost layer smarts
and nobility is exposed to a double danger
so I cover the wound quickly,
so easy it has been to escape
I think, retake my place
and although since then I only give meagre alms,
the heavy, wealthy future shrinks and shrinks.

English Translation by John Irons