Is there a reason for such elation?
Hence all of our minds are facing cruel extirpation.
Perhaps it was I that leapt to drown in quixotic despair,
still it may be I that escaped the inaudible whispers

For now I can only see the world as melancholic,
for two years I silenced myself from those that could frolic.
Amongst all until now what is it to believe,
and who is it do they now choose to deceive?