A contribution by Arend4
Don't look for me where myrtles are green. You will not find me there, my beloved. Where lives wither at the machines, there is my resting place. Don't look for me where birds sing. You will not find me there, my beloved. I am a slave where chains ring, there is my resting place. Don't look for me where fountains spray. You will not find me there, my beloved. Where tears flow and teeth gnash, there is my resting place. (From a Yiddish song by Morris Rosenfeld )