I shall soon fall prey to rot
Though it's hard to die
It's good to die;
I shall ask for no one's pity
And there's no one who would pity me

With my lyre I won no glory
For my noble family name;
And I die as distant from my people
As the day that I began to live

Ties of friendship
Unions of the heart-
All are broken:
From my youth
Fate has sent me foes implacable
While my friends all
Perished in the struggle

From the walls