1. When a man's back is bent by old age,
And he walks like a bow, with his staff as the string,

2. Then death is the most welcome rest for him,
While life brings only pain and harm.

3. When a man's back becomes like a bow,
And his staff leads the way as he walks,

4. And he is weary of life's burdens and length,
Weakened after the strength of old age,

5. Then in death he finds the greatest rest,
And respite from the death he had awaited.