My suffering, my pain with anguish fraught,
What does it mean while millions likewise suffer
While hopeless groan and groan again they utter,
And tears claw at the eyes of all like salt.
Although my soul aspires to heaven vault,
And with my pleas against it ever batters,
So small my frenzied sighing - can it matter?
Faced with the whole world's prayers my cry is naught!
And I believe I am the least of creatures -
My conscience will not grant that I think other -
And yet somehow, it seems to me forever,
That this my suffering has no bound nor ceasing,
But in my life as great a sum it reaches
As all those millions suffering together.
1915