The 2 Variations of "Nothing helps me"

Variation 1:
As water from my eyes run down my face
I think:
My umbrella doesn't help me,
for the tears from the ground
and my eyes
make my face wet with mournfullness
My clothing doesn't help me,
for I'm shivering with dreariness.
My thoughts don't help me,
for they don't even have enough grammar to understand.
My life doesn't help me either,
for I don't want to be so unhappy.
But I am. I am.
For my happiness is so cold
that my tears freeze on my face.

Variation 2:
A salty water runs,
runs down my face.
It runs for its life,
and I have too.
I have stopped,
stopped at this fountain,
and salty tears from my eyes run down,
while fresh tears fly up into the endless sky.
I should be setting out for the afterlife,
shouldn't I?
But, maybe
I can start over?
Throw away my shoes,
and I'll walk barefoot
through the morning dew,
just like my ancestors before me.
O, how I wish I could throw away my thoughts
as old, worn-out shoes!
Thoughts can't be
dissected under a microscope,
and some thoughts can't be plucked away with tweezers.
O, how I wish a kindly person
would dissect my thoughts!