I will be gone from here and sing my songs/ In the forest wilderness where the wild beasts are,/ And carve in letters on the little trees/ The story of my love, and as the trees/ Will grow letters too will grow, to cry/ In a louder voice the story of my love.
All of which misery I saw, part of which I was.
At this the loud outcries of Salius reach everyone within that vast arena.
Consider what each soil will bear, and what each refuses.
Each person, makes their own terrible passion their God.
Fate will find a way.
Happy is he who can trace effects to their causes.
His resolution is unshaken; tears, though shed, avail not.