My chest is open over there, and salt has been sprinkled here. Now, showing off the wounds no longer gives pleasure.

This powerful couplet speaks of profound emotional exhaustion. The poet describes his chest being open on one side and salted on the other—a perfect metaphor for intense, dual suffering. He is so deeply hurt that the act of showcasing his pain, or even seeking sympathy, has lost all its joy. It’s a moment of resigned despair; the pain is too real to be mere performance.