1. People are but in fortunes, joys, and trials,
And life but succession, decadence, decline,

2. Sorrows shall pass, of bliss but brief respites,
Each joy in this life ephemeral sign.

3. Evil does not last, nor good forever,
Every age stumbles with its men entire.

4. When day differs, and night, in your affairs
Does change make its mark on your attire?

5. Two they are, new, treading all good down,
Hastening, the first vanishes, the next nears.

6. I know that nothing hoped for stays around
Save God's face, not touched by passing years.

7. People's deeds are but like plants emerging,
Some grow strong, others dry, wither, expire.

8. Wisdom counseled me, made days of ignorance
My closest friend, months and years retire.

9. I laugh at enemies, though they bear me grudges,
Their breasts for me contain but burning fires.

10. I have accomplished feats beyond their judgements,
My steps guided by prudence, thoughts inspired.

11. The vile tear my flesh, disparage and slander,
Yet their calumny cannot touch me entire.

12. A man's vice shines clear upon his visage,
My vision penetrates facades, goes deeper.

13. I have shot my arrows true at those who blame me
With vile accusations they will never tire.

14. I know the error in each critic's language,
And what his soul contains, its secret desire.

15. Lo, many who abstain, yet immersed remain
In matters equal to, or even worse.

16. People's morals are but natural dispositions
Like hair, some soft, some coarse, rigid and terse.

17. Some chaste, noble ladies, yet wed
To vulgar men, worthless, of manners perverse.

18. Your harm is he who rivals you, so have courage,
Relatives' betrayal, the greatest curse.

19. You erred, they say, knew not what was hidden
To one enraged, reason makes no headway.

20. How can you glory in what you're not?
Among people you are contemptible prey.

21. Perfection of mind may be scorned,
While lacking mind honored and held dear.

22. One short gains glory which tall men spurned,
Prudence in some, elsewhere will not appear.

23. Baseness makes one lose what he claimed,
While other, right's champion, stays unclear,

24. One claims poetry that's not his own,
While a poet's works will scarcely cohere.

25. Sometimes, alas, the steadfast break,
While the pliant remain calm in fear.

26. I know the horse as though no effort it takes,
My body holding wounds that will not repair.

27. I hide my soul's secret until I kill it,
No conscience stirs in one who does not care.