i bemoan the wounds of fortune
with weeping eyes,
for the gifts she made me
she perversely takes away.
it is written in truth,
that she has a fine head of hair,
but, when it comes to seizing an opportunity
she is bald.
on fortune’s throne
i used to sit raised up,
crowned with
the many-coloured flowers of prosperity;
though i may have flourished
happy and blessed,
now i fall from the peak
deprived of glory.
the wheel of fortune turns;
i go down, demeaned;
another is raised up;
far too high up
sits the king at the summit
let him fear ruin!
for under the axis is written
queen hecuba.
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bu sözlük, duygu ve düşüncelerini özgürce paylaştığın bir platform, hislerini tercüme eden özgür bilgi kaynağıdır.
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