To mourn and bewail your ill-fortune, when you will gain a tear from those who listen, this is worth the trouble.

And though all streams flow from a single course to cleanse the blood from polluted hand, they hasten on their course in vain.

They who prosper take on airs of vanity.

But I must bear my destiny as best I can, knowing well that there is no resisting the strength of necessity.

Human prosperity never rests but always craves more, till blown up with pride it totters and falls. From the opulent mansions pointed at by all passers-by none warns it away, none cries, 'Let no more riches enter!'.

Since long I've held silence a remedy for harm.

Everyone's quick to blame the alien.