You would still plunge me into the pit,
And my own clothes would hate me [and refuse to cover my foul body].

“O earth, do not cover my blood,
And let there be no [resting] place for my cry [where it will cease being heard].

“Can you lift up your voice to the clouds,
So that an abundance of water will cover you?

“The quiver rattles against him,
[As do] the flashing spear and the lance [of his rider].

“The lotus plants cover him with their shade;
The willows of the brook surround him.