He is my master.
I always lack.
He makes me stand in thorny bushes
He leads me to hell’s flames.
He ruins my soul and abandons me in dungeons of dishonour for his unknown selfishness
Even when I stand at the mountain peaks of the open life, I trust no good.
For he is with me. His rod and incompetence dishearten me
He withdraws a table before me in the absence of my friends
He anoint my feet with sand, my cup runs dry.
Dubiously, badness and hate will precede me nights to my death
And I will depart the dynasty of my master forever.