I was carrying heavy Grief
Alongside the ice in spring.
Ice has wrecked under my feet, soul’s downfalled,
As the stone sunk to lake,
But the Grief - though heavy made -
Kept herself onto sharp edge
of the icy hole.

And from that unpleasant day
She is seeking for my sake.
Rumours fly around her, both with talkings.
And about me alive -
Only poplar-tree surmised
And the quail cocks and hens
were to know this.

Who has told about this
To my Lord nevertheless?
Who’s betrayed me and alas chattered spuriously?
And with passion in the mind,
He had seeked me and did find,
And the Grief with rumours then
stealthy followed.

He had found me and catched,
Hugged and raised me on his hands,
Near him on saddle Grief - grinning badly.
But he couldn’t stay for long,
In disposal one day only.
But the Grief remained forever,
always ready...