1. I stood upon a ruin in the wilderness,
Empty of folk, still from all calling out,

2. My eyes rained tears and then love said to them,
"This is the abode so pour down your rains and weep,

3. And do not deny that time has traits of one grown old,
Scattering of friends and shunning of meeting place,

4. For death has people of the house as residents,
And their homes are for decay and their state for crumbling,

5. So show patience, for if our time's calamities are burdensome,
And its events difficult, patience makes them easier, so grieve."