I turned back to the golden haunts of childhood,
And back on the white path of youth; I turned
To see the wonder palace built for me
Once by the holy hands of sacred Loves.

The path was hidden by the thorny briars;
The golden haunts, burned by the midday sun;
An earthquake brought the wonder palace low;

And now amidst the ruins and ashes, I
Am left alone and palsy-stricken; snakes
And lizards, pains and hatreds dwell now here
In constant loathful brotherhood with me.
An earthquake brought the wonder palace low!