1. You flashed with promise in the gloom of my hope,
Yet rain is not owed when lightning flashes.

2. Far be it from me to demand you
Take a path that leads on high from it.

3. So rise for it - it is a boy who finds
A rope, well-twisted, in the grip of one who tied.

4. And how many a cry you rose to defend,
While the stab makes the spear timid and attached.

5. Repel the foe from my flanks with a hand
In which the delicate and leaves tremble.