Lying in me, as though it were a white
Stone in the depths of a well is one
Memory that I cannot,
will not fight
It is happiness, and it is pain
Anyone looking straight into my eyes
Could not help seeing it, and could not fail
To become thoughtful, more sad and quiet
Than if he were listening to some tragic tale
I know the gods changed people into things
Leaving their consciousness alive and self-reliant
To keep alive the wonder of suffering
You have been metamorphosed into me
Slaying me
Those black visions
Haunt thy soul
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