The rebellious spirit of jealousy
There is no place for tranquil prayers,
For sacred, inviolable vows
In this vicious and phantom world,
Where devils have caught me,
Stung, judged, and tormented me,
Sentenced me to live in doubts.
I twist like an uncertain boar,
With nothing to console him,
I would gnaw out my soul with fangs,
Trampling and kicking with my feet.
Human love is inhumane.
On my heart—a mortal wound,
Salt-jealousy falls into it,
Provoking cruel, sharp pain,
Such that the wretched body
Has tormented itself, grown frenzied,
Throws itself like a predator in a cage
Against the strong bars and nets,
But the locks are firmly shut…
What am I to do, Lord? Mountains,
I am ready to move in my frenzy,
My spirit rages, seeks a solution.
Nervousness. No salvation in sight.
Confusion rises like a wave
Sufferings boil up in my chest,
Offering to flee from the torture.
But where in this sublunar world,
Thoroughly suspicious, noisy,
Is there a place for laudatory prayers,
For finished, impulsive battles?
Where envy does not cut to pieces,
Where rapture is not replaced by calamities?
Where wounds tormented by pain
Do not ache, and I before you
Will not toss and turn in vain,
Will not seem a wounded beast,
Riot in the trap of illusions,
Suffer from love's concussions,
Will look straight into your eyes,
Will cease to watch so stubbornly,
The scourges of punishment will subside—
The torments of jealous doubts