from On The Anvil – LVII

Adam in Eden, You in a garden;

He in all honour, You in your agony;

He sleeps and his company ill-watches;

You pray wide awake as yours slumbers.

His act was the first of disharmonies;

You composed our primordial day;

You drink the cup your Father sends;

He eats defiance and lives as dead.

The sweat of his brow is his sustenance;

That of yours is our glory:

The guilt was his, the affront yours.

He bequeathed horror; You leave us a memory;

His, a blind deceit; yours, a prime bargain.

How different the story you leave us!

~Francisco de Quevedo (Translated by Michael Smith)