I am convinced that I know, there is no doubt,
And faith is as firm as ever.
But somehow the hand treacherously weakened —
Conscience disarmed me, made me feeble.

Whom to listen to? Her
Or the crowd
That managed to gather?
For my senseless ideas
The senseless are ready to die.

So I see two choices:
Self-liquidate
Or lead the country to ruin.
However I try,
However I strive —
One way or another I will perish.