1. I no longer reproach, for I've grown old for blame
And gray hair has laughed in the face of youth

2. I've returned my soul to piety, so it's grown poor
As a sword returned to its sheath

3. With wealth I was generous, and station
An eminent man who fears no veil's disdain

4. How can faces be protected from reward and praise
When they'll be surrendered to dust again?

5. A litigious foe of the wickedest wickedness
Before crowds of angry, scowling men

6. I complied, so when he saw me, he was sure
Of the law of governance and script