¡Ve! si en oriente la graciosa luz
su cabeza flamígera levanta,
los ojos de los hombres, sus vasallos,
con miradas le rinden homenaje.
Y mientras sube al escarpado cielo,
como un joven robusto en su edad media,
lo siguen venerando las miradas
que su dorada procesión escoltan.
Pero cuando en su carro fatigado
deja la cumbre y abandona al día,
apártanse los ojos antes fieles,
del anciano y su marcha declinante.
Así tú, al declinar sin ser mirado,
si no tienes un hijo, morirás.

Lo! in the orient when the gracious light
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
Doth homage to his new-appearing sight,
Serving with looks his sacred majesty;
And having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill,
Resembling strong youth in his middle age,
Yet mortal looks adore his beauty still,
Attending on his golden pilgrimage:
But when from highmost pitch, with weary car,
Like feeble age, he reeleth from the day,
The eyes, 'fore duteous, now converted are
From his low tract, and look another way:
So thou, thyself outgoing in thy noon
Unlooked on diest unless thou get a son.