Pijanica

I hear the violin,its painful, sobbing cry.I stagger, drunk, and damnher saints up there on high.What tears my heart apartand stirs old wounds long past?And time, so quietly,counts down the days I'll last.Now I have no strength leftto look with fearless gazeinto my painful life,or the sun's burning blaze.My wife has gone and left me,all for the ruby wine;she took everything with her,and that dear son of mine.I've no wife any moreto wait for me at home.I've not even a hearthto warm me through and through,nor have I any bedto lie at night and rest.And that is why I drink:the drink consoles me best.