In my diet I take what is coarse

And do not seek delicacies—

I am a man whose cookery

Does not require him

To be using cooling drinks.

For this, when in the morning

I have received my charge,

Only in the late evening

I am drinking something iced.

This way, am I not a man

Who is doomed to feel

The internal heat and discomfort

Throughout the night?!

Such is my state of mind

Before I have actually engaged

In any dealing with people—

In advance I’m already suffering

From conflicting anxieties.

And if the things do not succeed,

My superior is to deal with me

After the manner of a tyrant,

Not that of a patron. The evil here

Is twofold: as a subordinate

I am unable to bear the burden

Of the job I hate so much, as it is

Simply not the place for me.

Truly, as is said, one man's diet