Whom to blame that I’m not like that?
School, parents, or the country?
Seemingly kind, then suddenly mean,
Yesterday wild, and today calm.

I can’t always explain the magnets of circumstances,
And from the side it’s even worse to see —
And here I run or I lie,
Pleasant to some, disgusting to others.

WHAT is the criterion, and who will judge —
The scaffold or the pedestal?
Who sent me will also wake me —
Through me He took, through me He gave.