The way a keeper who has lost his elephant after feeding it
sumptuous food and after caring for it many years may weep
with grief when he looks at the empty post in the mournful stall
where once it lived, didn't I shed tears when I looked out
on the empty public square of the ancient city where Killi
the generous would pass, he who wore a golden garland
and whose fame was great and who used to give away gifts of chariots?