Estuans Interius
Carmina Burana
Burning Inside
Burning inside
with fierce anger
in bitterness
I speak to my mind:
formed from matter,
ashes of elements,
I am like a leaf,
played with by the winds.
For it is proper
for a wise man
to place his foundation
above the rock,
foolish I compare myself
to a flowing river,
under the same path
never remaining.
I am carried along
like a ship without a sailor,
like a wandering bird
carried through the paths of the air;
no chains hold me,
no key holds me,
I seek those like me
and join the wicked.
The heaviness of my heart
seems a heavy thing to me;
pleasant in jests
and sweeter than honeycombs;
whatever Venus commands,
labor is sweet,
which never dwells
in cowardly hearts.
I walk the broad path
like in my youth,
entangled in vices
forgetful of virtue,
eager for pleasure
more than for health,
dead in soul
I care for the skin.
