And you are laughing about me writing allegorically? Are not even hell and purgatory allegories to us, who are the poorest of them all? Where is a hell, if not in yourselves? And where is purgatory, if not in ourselves? I am talking about this purgatory when I am symbolically telling the story of my "spirits' furnace", the terrible time of which I will have overcome today or tomorrow. I hold no grudge against you, for I know it had to be this way. It had been my task to bear every heavy load and to taste every bitterness, which was to be borne and tasted here; I have to use this in my work now. I am not embittered, because I know my guilt. And what others had been forced to do to me, I do not hold against them. I am just asking for that one thing: Finally, finally, let me have the time to start this work!
Now that my life's hard work is all quite done,
Just leisure is what old age shall be bringing.
And what perhaps I will still look upon
With harp and psaltry I will still be singing.
I gave you all I got from God above,
Not for myself, among you I've been living.
And when you're giving hatred for my love,
I'll be content with these thanks you are giving.
Now that my life's hard pains are all quiet done,
To soothe my grief on God I am depending.
And what might still on me will come upon
He shall, in me, lead to a joyous ending.
The guilt you burdened me with heavily,
Was partially not my own, I must be saying.
The worldly thoughts on this which stir in me,
I'll gladly hide, except when I am praying.
Now that my life's hard test is all quiet done,
The Lord's own verdict I might soon be hearing,
Which way on me He might decide upon
It's my salvation, nothing I'd be fearing.
I cheer. From dungeons I will be set free;
At last, this prison's ties He'll sever.
Farewell! And he who still will misjudge me
Might just as well go on, hate me for ever!
The End.