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I’m in a rage, so angry that I don’t know what to do
because of what just happened when I went out with a few
good friends to take a walk in town, this lovely Sabbath day.
We joined a crowd of rowdy…
Asleep in songs and lullabies was my heart, while I was dreaming, imagining myself amidst poets, as eloquent and intelligent as the finest wine yeast.From my drunken slumber an illustrious man awoke…
Nothing else makes me really rage
as when a poor man does something [wrong]
he is lost here and there
everyone would happily drink his blood.
But what the rich do here
is always all right
people let…
As on this month’s last day,
the moon is waning,
make my sins wane, O Lord,
my merits flourish.
I know my heart is hard—
a wicked web whose threads are sin—
and I deserve the fire
for weaving wrong…