He seems to me, that one,
An equal of the gods,
The man fixed there, who sits
Across from you and hears
Close by your voice, your laugh,
Which once so shook my soul.
For as I look on you,
My voice yields up no sound,
My tongue silently shivers,
My skin turns hot with fire,
My eyes give me no sight,
My ears pound their own sound,
A sweat chills over me,
A trembling seizes me,
I'm paler than the reeds,
And in my weakened state,
I'm little short of death.
But all must be endured....