… Can the pain be so dense, so deep and devastating, so tenacious and abrasive,
that you may never find words of justice for the raw wounds of your soul,
[… Is when the body tastes like gall, dejection and unusual sadness and distance, hard loneliness,
when the mind sounds like death and a hoarse murmur, hurt and stopped in time;
occurs when breathing oppresses and also smell, and cough, and even move the hands because everything
has started to scream and has become anguish and anguish, and it hurts without measure because a cruel asphyxia
and galloping it harasses the conscience to encircle it, look at it in the face and destroy it]
… Ah, unholy fight! but why, why should we die?
Are we so slaves and indolent to the dragon of bodies,
these, those who instruct and vomit pus and shadow?
What strange power - I say - will be able to direct the sails of your ship, eh, captain?
- tell me, answer me -
Well, where did you succumb or in whose hands have you left them?
Well, if necessary, wake up, get up and don't give up, ah, never, the light of this journey;
But, first, you must stop and listen carefully, since, under deep waves of pain,
you must hear and understand the harshest criticisms of these implacable gods of ours,
the God of Knowledge and the God of Wisdom, whom, however, without light we cannot distinguish;
… And, if you do so, equanimous and free, you will arrive at port;
… Don't listen to me, theirs are the words.