“What strength do I have left, that I should wait [and hope]?
And what is ahead of me, that I should be patient and endure?

For the years that lie ahead are few, and then I will go on the way of no return.

The runoff from the streams will seem sweet to him; everyone will follow after him; countless crows march ahead of him.

He charges ahead with trembling rage;
he cannot stand still at the trumpet’s sound.