Classic Poem

Whither shall I, the fair maiden, flee from Sorrow?
If I fly from Sorrow into the dark forest;—
After me runs Sorrow with an ax:
“I will fell, I will fell the green oaks;
I will seek, I will find the fair maiden.”
If I fly from Sorrow into the open field,—
After me runs Sorrow with a scythe:
“I will mow, I will mow the open field;
I will seek, I will find the fair maiden.”
Whither then shall I flee from Sorrow?
If I rush from Sorrow into the blue sea,—
After me comes Sorrow as a huge fish;
“I will drink, I will swallow the blue sea;
I will seek, I will find the fair maiden.”
If I seek refuge from Sorrow in marriage,—
Sorrow follows me as my dowry;
If I take to my bed to escape from Sorrow,—
Sorrow sits beside my pillow;
And when I shall have fled from Sorrow into the damp earth,—
Sorrow will come after me with a spade.
Then will Sorrow stand over me, and cry triumphantly,
“I have driven, I have driven, the maiden into the damp earth!”