Текст песни Аделина Войт - Акт третий, сцена четвертая, монолог Гамлета

Frenzy, delirium!
My pulse like yours counts down the beat
And just as cheerful. No violation of meaning
In my words. Ask again -
I will repeat them, but the patient could not.
In the name of god, drop your balm!
Don't be fooled by the thought that all is misery
Not in your command, but in me.
Such an ointment will tighten the wound with a crust,
And the hidden pus will eat up everything inside you.
You have to confess. Repent
In what you have done, beware from now on.
The thin grass is uprooted.
Please forgive me for being right
How virtue asks in our time
Forgiveness for vice for good,
Which she brings him.