I deny myself a slumber. Some terrible exhaustion Punishes me with a gloomy hell. Without disregard To this: conspicuous unbalance. Phanerogamic foreigner of amazing excitement! Will you concede your berth To my frail and erratic body And hardened before such a tormented rest? Or do you not recognise me now, Involved by an eruptive relief Now inherent to my plea? Damned refuge you have turned into; Oh ruthless and lifeless inside Does my existence claim! Addicted to scarlet tears of the martyr For you drew, you all became! Your present consolation Is for me an apparent farce... Illusion... Mirage of hazard... Dream or fantasy... Lascivious and awake I am in this trouble, Which you pleased me with. By a disenchanted pact, I unload onto you all the burden of my pen nib, Even knowing that you pay yourself With feeble insomnia!