I’m still too young to lack desires, Not young enough now for mere play. What satisfaction can life hold? Do without, do without! That old Command pursues us down the years 1550 Endlessly echoing in our ears— The same old hoarse repeated song Heard hour by hour our whole life long! With each new dawn I wake aghast, My eyes with bitter tears are filled To think that when this day has passed I’ll not have had one single wish fulfilled, That even my presentiments of joy Will die of nagging scruples,
