The chamber is empty. It’s lonely, cold, damp.
Chains are joined in fetters on hands.
Eyes ‘re closed, eyelids ‘re poured by lead.
I dream I’m inside – on the prison bed.
His shackles became rusted on weak withered wrists.
I feel my body’s heaviness – it squeezed all from within.
He silently eats food, and, having curled up, silently sleeps.
And only separation torments, pain pierces with arrows.
Drowse in unconsciousness – I am imprisoned with him.
He appears rarer in my mind. Increasingly, I’m alone.
Daylight decreases in long nights of melancholy.
Hours turned to days. Thoughts’ sorrow gnaws.
Prisoners in this body, we are completely strange.
I am stiff-limbed and mute, when he looks outside.
Releasing me, my dream turns off my mind,
Looking at the man behind the prison bars.