O Marianna! Tomorrow they’re going to give me the Last Rites! Is my condition so serious, then?
Yet I don’t feel as if I’m about to die …
O God, thy will be done!
Outside the window the sun’s still shining, and you can hear the sound of all those people moving about, living … a sunbeam coming through the window has settled on my bed …
What a world there is in a ray of sunshine! Everything it sees and casts its light on at any moment … countless joys, and sorrows, and people who love each other … and him!
Under the eaves there’s a swallow’s nest – the sun shines for them, too …
O God!
Yet how can I die without seeing my father? May I never see him again? O God! I’m resigned to dying, but I wish I could see my father one last time … Poor papa, who doesn’t know that I’m dying … Why haven’t they told him? Why haven’t they sent for him? There’s no telling how much he’ll grieve for me!
To think of dying – of dying so young … I’m not yet twenty!
O God!
When will I die? If I could at least die quickly! This spiritual torment is so painful!