Now my days are swifter than a post: they flee away, they see no good.

Have the doors of death been open to you, or have the door-keepers of the dark ever seen you?

If my heart has been deceived by a woman, or if I have laid wait at my neighbor's door;

Did I fear a great multitude, or did the contempt of families terrify me, that I kept silence, and went not out of the door?

An alien has not lodged in the street; I have opened my door to the traveler.