Why torture me?
I can get drunk without remorse
And if I come to stagger
I will fall asleep under the porch of my home
When I wake up a bird sings among the flowers.
I ask him what day we are.
He answers: in the spring,
The season when the bird sings!
I feel strangely moved
And ready to blow me out.
But I return to drink
And I sing all day long
Until the evening moon appears.
And when my songs are silent
I am no longer conscious of what surrounds me.