Die alte Frau, die alte Marschallin!

Not good any more, not beautiful—
Not even young.
This isn’t mine.
Where is the old one, the old ones?
Those were mine.

It’s so: I have pictures,
Not such old ones; people behaved
Differently then…when they meet me they say:
You haven’t changed.
I want to say: You haven’t looked.

This is what happens to everyone.
At first you get bigger, you know more,
Then something goes wrong.
You are, and you say: I am—
And you were…I’ve been too long.

I know, there’s no saying no.
But just the same you say it. No.
I’ll point to myself and say: I’m not like this. 
I’m the same as always inside.
—And even that’s not so.

I thought: if nothing happens…
and nothing happened.

Here I am.
                But it’s not right.
If just living can do this,
Living is more dangerous than anything:

It is terrible to be alive.