Because I am my refuge and strength,
I have no help in time of trouble.
The earth shall give way,
and the mountains shall crumble;
when the sea foams,
and the landscape trembles—
there can be only fear.
I seek gladness in needing nothing,
the security of self-sufficiency.
But there is no security to be found;
the night’s gladness vanishes when morning dawns.
Gladness is never enough,
as I fail to convince myself of independence.
I am alone, desperate for pretended security—
weak medicine for a deep wound.
My greatest works will be forgotten,
my great-grandchildren forget my name.
I cannot stop inevitable pain,
suffering comes to every man,
and I shall not escape it.
“Behold, I long for security,
but am powerless to achieve it,
feigned strength is a meager gladness.”
But I will pretend my self-sufficiency,
until I am insufficient to stop death.