Sol 5.6

  1. Oh, how bitterly cold the dew is, my friend,

    in the land of spring!

  2. And whoever has died there has gone to rest;

    and, by your life, it is bitter cold.

  3. And the glib talker began, in his discourse,

    to speak of it swiftly:

  4. The moon is the moon, whether it vanishes or appears,

    even while traveling;

  5. and people are people—female together with male—

    who plant trees

  6. on which fruits appear.

    And in my view, whoever hears this

  7. would surely take it for hot air.

Sol 5.6