I leaned against the mantel, sick, sick, br Thinking of my failure, looking into the abysm, br Weak from the noon-day heat. br A church bell sounded mournfully far away, br I heard the cry of a baby, br And the coughing of John Yarnell, br Bed-ridden, feverish, feverish, dying, br Then the violent voice of my wife: br "Watch out, the potatoes are burning!" br I smelled them ... then there was irresistible disgust. br I pulled the trigger ... blackness ... light ... br Unspeakable regret ... fumbling for the world again. br Too late! Thus I came here, br With lungs for breathing ... one cannot breathe here with lungs, br Though one must breathe....