MIRROR MEASUREMENT

A nest of worry - a hesitantly concealed feeling,
 followed by a million and one,
 as my silent fears in my soul, the question: 
How and where else can I continue my life?
 The bliss of Being can hardly be exchanged,
 And stinging too, 
if there be no nurse's hand left to hold me! 

But beneath my oppressed elipsis head
 Often a cat and mouse play,
 ...and the absence of action is made a dagger and a pestle.
 From the furrows of my furrowed brow
 my sad eyes, like jackals, flash to the sky. 

Whiplashes of flashing emotions,
 If any man will not redeem me, and support me.
 I can scarcely stand!
 - I have seen many a Janus-turncoat
 who with kisses of foot have tickled
 to make themselves famous,
 or esteem.
 For in my heart his baiting tune
 I guarded with grace and therefore I had to
 I have often had to pay the penalty.
 Peace is the holy peace of the wise and the dead:
 the guardian and protector. 
The sleepy light of weekdays.
 Thou dost drag deception with thee,
 if I admit it not:
 I'll confess my hesitation,
 and that it is not shameful! 

If only a ticklish spark could crack in the world,
 To convince me with certainty
 - that all may begin to examine themselves!
 Let every man measure himself against the infinite.
 The hand of a timeless friend
 The oath still in the south:
 We can do better, - but only if we want it together!
 It summons burdensome and sacred burdens:
 So tenderly does he caress,
 Like a blessed woman's hand,
 ...and beckon'd to the secret hook of romance.
 
- I was afraid myself, I trembled,
 and I have wept in piteous form a thousand times!
 Like a pessimistic despondent evermore
 I grope and grope
 - I go to her unknown
 The troubled future of Babel!
 The outcome is hardly known!