1. Where are you headed, O noble soul?
We are the shoots, and you are the rain clouds.

2. We are those who find the days too narrow for them because of you,
Yet your nearness has betrayed them.

3. Your battle for glory, peace treaties, this position and determination
Would that when you travel the tents remain,

4. And when you camp the cavalcade moves on!
Each day for you there is a new undertaking

5. And, on the road to glory, a place to stay.
When spirits are great,

6. Bodies grow weary fulfilling their desires,
Thus do the planets rise over us,

7. And thus do the great oceans surge.
We are wont to kindness and patience

8. If only we had, apart from you, tranquility.
No living without the song of doves,

9. No sunshine but that it knows darkness,
Remove the desolation that is in us,

10. O you who gives serenity to the sublime gatherings.
He who beholds the tumult, with a heart serene as if

11. The battle were tethered steeds;
Who attacks squadrons till the van joins the rear;

12. Who, halting in a land for but an hour,
Wrongs time itself − trespass on destiny;

13. The land where he is sown yields happiness,
The clouds wherefrom he rains pour wine;

14. Whenever it was said: “We have seen the utmost of him,”
A bounty shone forth which the generous had not attained,

15. A valor that adversaries fall short of,
A composure to perplex people.

16. The awe of the Ruler's sword in hearts
Is the blade of empire.

17. Many the bold fear it,
Many the eloquent greet it.