1. Is there some knowledgeable soul in the farthest reaches,

    To whom I might fly with wings outspread,

  2. That I might ask him and gently entreat him, in hope

    That he will heal the wounds afflicting my faith,

  3. And dispel the darkness that has gathered from my night of ignorance

    With the light of guidance, like the breaking dawn?

  4. Then I shall spit in the face of the foul “Mother of Stench,”

    Forsake her, and thrust her away with my palm;

  5. I shall sober from her intoxication and cease yearning,

    Chastely shunning her lovely gazelles;

  6. And turn my whole resolve away from her

    Toward the abode of happiness and salvation.

  7. At sixty, shall I doze through my noonday rest

    While the herald of death rouses me to depart?

  8. Time has already unfurled the banner of my gray hair

    To fold me away and strip me of my sash.

  9. Death has already drawn a blade against me

    That will kill me, however keen my weapons may be;

  10. And my companions will carry me to the graves,

    There to confinement—or to spaciousness.

  11. I shall be rewarded with good if I have sent good ahead,

    And with evil if I am repaid for my wrongdoing.

  12. Yet here I am, despite knowing this,

    Making slow progress along the paths of righteousness,

  13. While in the arena of sins I have a course

    So far that even the winds cannot rival it.

  14. If only I had looked with the eye of reason,

    I would have spent my lifetime wailing;

  15. I would not have trailed my hems in youthful folly,

    Nor delighted in a voluptuous beauty.

  16. Today I would have been ever-returning, turning penitently to God,

    So that perhaps my lot might win tomorrow.

  17. When I am shackled by sins

    And held captive by them, who will grant me release?

  18. Is there, then, any sincere repentance from them

    That will make me soar away and secure my freedom?

  19. Alas for my grief when all creatures are assembled

    To witness the battle against me and my disgrace!

  20. Were it not that I place my hope in my God

    And in His mercy, I would despair of salvation.

Sol 6.1