Lo! in a month will I
go back to my abode,
to those after a near death
the castaway, the cut off ones,
they shall slay and slaughter (with me)
this king and his kingdom.
Ever the numskull counts the sand
you and not the water drops
as the fools would say thy name
in sleeveless arms to banish me.
And he steals by stealing (everyday)
using a ruler's crown
of feathers and pure gold, not a sound
around this town.
But watch me, no longer!
for I will draw on you now
in every way I can to can
to devour thy blank seated
self and soul and sacred age
thee and myself can then meet.