1. The swords of events, their blows
Strike us, and the struggle takes and leaves.

2. So here I am, your slave, with a constricted life,
I pour out my sorrow before you and complain

3. To you, O men of the unseen, of my hardship.
I was confounded by an event that dazzled reason

4. And rendered my tale incoherent and the situation dire.
So I stood at your door to ask favor

5. And from you I hope for succor, and then
Aid, and gifts, and the mending of my breakage.