To the Carthusian and to the Celestine,

To the beggars and to the pious,

To the lechers and to the prowlers,

To the servants and the pretty maids,

Wearing great coats and curt plaids,

To the wiseacres in unreturned love

Strutting in stinking boots,

I am screaming for forgiveness.

To the young girls showing their breasts

To lure more customers,

To the crooks raising rows,

To the tricksters milking fat rats,

To the weirdoes and fools and mad women

Walking away whistling in groups of six,

To the tots and the lassies,

I am screaming for forgiveness.

But not to the perfidious cops

Who made me gnaw on hard scat,

Humiliated me in the evening and in the morning – over and over again,

So that I don’t dread the dirt any more.

I want to fart and belch at them,

But I can’t since I’m sitting.

To avoid the conflict

I scream for forgiveness.

Someone shall break their fifteen ribs

With large hammers, adamant and heavy,

With halberds and similar weapons. Then I will beg even them for mercy.