1. This abode of false splendor is no true home,
Its lushness is but rain on the clouds.

2. Look closely - you will only see
Blessings in plenty for the vile.

3. And men slow to do right,
Quick to violate what is sacred.

4. Each neighbor unfaithful to them
Each friend without loyalty.

5. With all who dwell in this land
There is constant wrath over fate.

6. No brief contentment here, fleeting hours
Drag on like years.

7. When I seek a cure here
For my own illness, I find only illness.

8. Its mornings are gloomy as dusk,
Its dawns dim as darkness.

9. No place where the noble are known
Or kindness brings favor.

10. We have drunk our fill, with no thirst quenched,
In oceans of brine, bitter tides.