Classic Poem

I

The windows are barred,
And frozen the walls;
Feebly the light
Of the doorlamp falls.

Under a cover
Of gray I lie;
A point on the wall
Has fastened my eye.

I am far from myself,
Forget all I know;
Who knows? perhaps I
Was freed long ago.

And maybe I died,
And dutifully
The doorlamp was lit
In my memory.

II

Dry are the tears,
And laughter is bleak;
The good and the bad
Are equally weak.

Our bodies are beaten
With iron bands,
And he who is fearful
Licks the guard's hands.

We all are shadows
In the house of dead pains.
Does the silence scare you?
Then rattle your chains!