Is it not horrible? But our life,
Spreading a feast, stuffs itself with a banquet of crawling maggots
Till, like a dog who vomits worms and morsels of meat,
The loaded belly revolts and disgorges it all on the table!
I long for happiness!
But I am like a man beneath the earth in a cell no sound can enter.
Who will open the door? Who will descend into the blackness of my dungeon, bearing in his hand the yellow flame?
Simon: I also lie in that secret place.
I shall arise and burst open the door and I shall appear before men!
Ah! Ah!