I gave all I had left.

Press close to the portal,

my gate will soon clang

and your fellow wretches

will crowd to the entrance—

be first at the gate.

Ah beloved, do not speak.

I write this in great haste—

do not speak,

you may yet be released.

[37]

I am glad enough to depart

though I have never tasted life

as in these last weeks.

It is a strange life,

patterned in fire and letters

on the prison pavement.

If I glance up

it is written on the walls,

it is cut on the floor,

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