1. And after all that, I lament what I endure—

    at the hands of time: sorrow and distress.

  2. Whenever I seek to journey toward lofty attainments,

    I find poverty standing in my path.

  3. My friend has wearied of me because my lot is wretched,

    so I can no longer tell my enemy from my friend.

  4. How often I complain to one who shows no pity,

    as a captive complains to one set free.

  5. No, by God, it is not poverty I fear;

    but how am I to meet the claims upon me?

  6. If I rise to meet them, I rise without a wing;

    and if I neglect them, I am branded undutiful.

Sol 5.6