1. Alive you will remain though shrouds enfold you,
Immortal though they said and machinated.

2. Your world, O poet of sorrows, flourishes
With your own soul, not what they were or became.

3. You did not cast your poetry to please a whim
Nor weaken, though in their weakness they betrayed.

4. You did not flatter to beg a generous brother,
Though many flattered with poems, oh brothers!

5. Yearning for poetry has become for some of them
Goods without pride or stature.

6. This one trades in poems professionally,
And that one's goal with poetry is a spearhead.

7. This is rampant prostitution in literature,
Its daughters today are poems and melodies.

8. You see the diluted and wasteful collected
By the meanness of spirit, scanning and meters.

9. So poetry became "effeminate" like its sayer,
No longer poetry, nor the artist an artist.

10. And every people turned mercenary with poetry,
So their share of a life of pride is loss.

11. O immortal poet leave them to their misguidance,
And leave the immortal poetry wherever they were.

12. You replaced with immortality better than their friendship,
Immortality suffices you for companions and brethren.