Classic Poem

Come, misfortune, since so plainly
In my steps thus followest thou
Without erring,
Make an end, bring Death that vainly
Sought I of thee then and now,
To life preferring.

Cruel fate that me forlorn
Wouldst from woe to woe see drift
Without measure,
Since in brief space was I born
Let my death likewise be swift,
Not at thy leisure.

If my birth was but a day,
Why so many now of death
Dost thou give,
So that death doth on me weigh
Who so sadly draw my breath
And still must live?

Fortune and Heaven's will
Have so maltreated me,
And no relief
From those who me thus kill,
No pity may I see
For all my grief.

In these mountains where I dwell,
Every animal and bird
Is sad for me,
For my cries and tears that well
And my lamentations heard
Ceaselessly.

Yea, the thickets wild have shown
Their pity when my plight
They see,
And caves where light ne'er shone
Wish that they were filled with light