I stumbled out into the courtyard to try to flee my misery, but of course we can never flee the misery that is within us.

I went back to those graves not long afterward and found as I stood there that sadness was a very heavy thing. My body weighed twice what it had only a moment earlier, as if those graves were pulling me down toward them.

ثاو على صخر أصم، وليت لي قلب كهذي الصخرة الصماء

متفرد بصبابتي، متفرد بكآبتي، متفرد بعنائي

There is no greater sorrow than to recall in misery the time when we were happy.

When he came home early, he was dreary. There, he'd sit by the fireplace, his worn hands gripping the newspaper a bit too tight, his eyes held to it, unseeing, towards the words, the meaningless grouping of letters on that newspaper. The fire would cackle, sizzle, full of life, so opposite to this man, whose face was crossed with the burdens of the world, and lips pressed thing under that bushy mustache. His grief sat on him like a cloud, sending him into a dimension that left his eyes two empty coals, his chest an impossible storm. He spoke to no one, and hardly did anyone speak to him, because words were never something he was good at.
Then, when the sky darkened, he's stand, and trudge to his room, where his bed waited, cold and hungry, just as he'd always known it to be.