Seems I'm doomed by my life to accept share of suffering; Grief is wedded to weariness, blocking my path; Torn it seems has my life been from playful rejoicing, Aching heart's been sore wounded by tiredness and sloth. Suffering seems an inheritance tied to my life; Life is stricken indeed by unenviable portion. Oh, in life I've endured some incredible strife And my languishing soul in its grief seems to worsen. Joy and gladness are promised by distance and haze, And arriving, I hear only sighing and crying, Tempest suddenly starts with a thunderous daze And destroys all my dreams so enchanting and cloying. I've concluded and know now that life is a cheat, I have ceased to complain of unenviable portion. Sloth and tiredness though pressing my soul will not beat, Neither suffering nor grief really warrants attention.