当我走在大街上时，没有任何人看我。
只有睡梦中，我听到一个同情的声音：“瞧，在那里躺着的人，他的悲哀已经死掉。”
tenderness.
and my sorrore things, strong and beautiful and full of hts.
and ed and our nights irdled ue,and mine together, my sorrohbors sat at their s e memories.
and ether, my sorroazed at us entle eyes and s and i things, and alone i am left to muse and ponder.
and no my songs my neighbours come not to listen.
and in pity, “see, there lies the man whose sorrow is dead.”
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