Sol 5.6

  1. The years’ repeated passing has bent my spear-shaft,

    and nights’ vicissitudes have made my crown gray.

  2. Can any freeborn man escape time’s calamities,

    when he stands exposed to death in every state?

  3. Alone, I have not one soul among mankind

    in whom to seek refuge—for companionship or communion.

  4. No family, no child in whom hope might rest;

    yet I am never free of dependents’ burden.

  5. No homeland, no dwelling, no vineyard,

    no crop on salt-flat land, nor trellised vines.

  6. No wealth, no garment except what

    is on my body, for everyday wear and adornment.

  7. No horse, no ass, and no ox;

    nor any mule that could be counted among mules.

  8. No camel, nor noble lineage

    to save my face from the abasement of begging.

  9. But yes—my leg has an ugly inward bend,

    and I have a shin thinner than a toothpick;

  10. and enduring privation with which I am afflicted,

    and laziness besides—so now my traits are complete.

Sol 5.6