BURNING INSIDE

Burning inside with violent anger, bitterly I speak to my heart:
Created from matter, of the ashes of the elements, I am like a leaf
played with by the winds.

If it is the way of the wise man to build foundations on stone, then I
am a fool, like a flowing stream, which in its course never changes.

I am carried along like a ship without a steersman, and in the paths
of the air like a light, hovering bird; chains cannot hold me, keys
cannot imprison me, I look for people like me and join the wretches.

The heaviness of my heart seems a burden to me; it is pleasant to joke
and sweeter than honeycomb; whatever Venus commands is a sweet duty,
she never dwells in a lazy heart.

I travel the broad path as is the way of youth, I give myself to vice.
Unmindful of virtue, I am eager for the pleasures of the flesh more
than for salvation. My soul is dead, so I shall look after the flesh.