1. Clad in the garb of grief, misfortune lured me;
Ease it proffered, then abandoned me to hardship.

2. I have endured the blows of fate until my breast
Was humbled by powerlessness and want.

3. Had wealth and glory been allotted with merit,
None would have hoped for largesse from another.

4. Take comfort, my soul, relief comes after stress;
For me, naught remains but honor or the grave.

5. Renown is mine, encompassing the earth, that sets
Oblivion at naught, though penury inter it.