You threw me in the corner of a cage, waiting to see
when paradise wind would blow from your hair.
From beginning to end you gave to everybody,
to paupers your assets and riches, peri.
Pauper Mazun cannot tole
rate. He rips
his collar with his hand, making his eyes tearful.
Endures because of you, wipes with your skirt,
in view of your eyelashes, his tearful eyes, peri.