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Edward II has been captured and imprisoned by the rebelling forces.
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Start:
The wounded deer
Runs for a plant that closes up the wound
But when the tiger's flesh is torn, the tiger
Digs deeper into it with savage claw.
I often think all's in a state of flux.
[... � …]
End:
While Care stands at my elbow and while Sorrow
Holds me to his bosom and I bleed
At all the changing.
At such times I could wish to be a peasant in a hut.
Bertolt Brecht, Edward II, Trans. Eric Bentley. Grove Press, 1966. Pp. 58-59.
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