1. Shall I remain in the freshness of worries as if
The nights had given me from their cups poison to drink?

2. And my greatest hopes from fate are that
I will be free, with neither joy nor care.

3. I consider the talks of ambitions to be lost,
And I stop up from this purpose bellies barren.

4. So neither gathering wealth, nor attaining sublime rank,
Nor hoarding reward, nor seeking knowledge.

5. With a swing between destitution and riches,
And a position between wretchedness and bliss.