Like winds of seas, you toss the shutters,
Like winds of deserts, you sing : 'Behold!
You're mine for ever! I'm ancient Clutter,
Your old, good fellow, - unlock your hold!'

I dare not open, I hold the shutters,
I hold the shutters and hide my fright.
I keep and cherish, I keep with flutter
My love - my treasure, my last day light.

The sightless Chaos laughs, calls and moans:
'You'll die in irons - pull off this stuff!
You can be happy, you are alone,
Bliss lies in freedom - and in Non-Love.'

I grow colder and try a prayer,
I'm hardly able my love to pray...
My hands get weaker, I've lost warfare,
My hands get weaker... I will obey!

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver