And I shall be no more your cherished son.
I think, my sire, that you are growing old.
Your teeth are falling out from day to day.
They whom you visit will not serve you more.
Your friends won't serve you longer, and your sire,
He who begot you, will not help you now.
In your adversity no help will come
From all your kindred's high nobility.
May God make easy all the paths you tread!
His uncle having threatened him with death, he answered: