| Cuyir, ra nu'cuyir, ibac tionas: |
To be, or not to be, that [is the] question: |
| Meh cuyi ijaa'shya o'r mirde atiniir |
If [it] is more honorable in [the] thoughts to endure |
| goore bal beviine b'ori'suumyc ka'ra, |
[the] throws and lances of outrageous stars |
| ra jurir besbe'trayce ram'or naysol uraktose, |
or to carry weapons to attack too many difficulties, |
| bal ti akaan rohakar val: ramaanar, nuhoyir |
and with war to defeat them: to die, to sleep |
| dar; bal de nuhoy, sirbur mhi kyri |
no more; and by sleep, to say we end |
| aaray be'kar'ta, bal ta'raysholan hayc nyne |
[the] pain of [the] heart, and [the] thousand natural hits |
| meg loras juri? Ibac nari |
that flesh carries? That act |
| cuyi vercopaanir par ruusaanyc. Ramaanar, nuhoyir, |
is to wish for devoutly. To die, to sleep, |
| nuhoyir, ret haa'tayli vercopase; elek, ibac chaab, |
to sleep, maybe see dreams; yes, that [is the] fear |
| jorcu o'r nuhoy be'kyr'am, tion'meg haa'ite ret olaro, |
because in [the] sleep of death, what visions may come, |
| sha ca'nara meg mhi ba'slana cuun ramaanla baare, |
at [the] time that we leave our mortal bodies, |
| enteyo dinuir bah mhi jorbe mirdir. Ibac chaab |
must give us a reason to think. That fear |
| ukoro chaashya haran'la oya |
pushes further [a] calamitous life |
| jorcu tion'ad jorso'ran nyne be duraanyc ca'nara |
because who shall bear [the] hits of scornful time |
| ne'serim narise be tsad droten, chayai b'ori'jaon'yc adate, |
[the] incorrect acts of the Republic, [the] teasing of self-important people, |
| kad'la aaray be darasuum'la kar'tayl or'paguuryc, n'iviin'yc tor, |
[the] sharp pain of love despised, slow justice, |
| duraan be te naak'ade, bal tette |
[the] scorn of the pacifists, and [the] kicks |
| meg di'kute dinui bah ruusaane, |
that fools give to reliable ones, |
| meh kaysh lise te'habir uraktose |
if one can remove difficulties |
| ti nu'hukaatyc kal? Tion'ad jorso'ran ibic'e uraktose, |
with an uncovered dagger? Who shall bear these difficulties, |
| oritsir bal onidir chur haryc oya, |
to curse and to sweat under tired life, |
| meh kaysh nu chaaba nakare suum kyr'am, |
if one did not fear [the] unknown things beyond death, |
| ibac nu'mar'ey'la uvet, teh briik be'meg |
that undiscovered world, from [the] line of which |
| naasad verd yaimpa, mirshe tioni, |
no warrior returns, [the] brain questions, |
| bal mhi jatne emuuri dushe mhi gana, |
and we prefer bad things we have, |
| bal n'eyayti at ashise meg mhi nu'kar'tayli. |
and don’t flee to others that we don’t know. |
| Mirdir gotal'u mhi an hut'uune, |
To think makes us all cowards, |
| bal jiriad sal be mirde hukaati ti nu'jahaal |
and [the] pale colour of thoughts covers with sickness |
| ge'tal sal be nasre, |
[the] blood-red colour of resolve |
| bal nare be ori'kar'ta bal ori'kando, |
and acts of great heart and importance, |
| ti mirde, val shonare amu teh jate'kara |
with thoughts, their waves change from [the] right course |
| bal dar'gana gai be nari. Luubid jii, |
and no longer have [the] name of action. Enough now, |
| ogir copyc Opelia? Mesh, gedet'ye ke'partayli |
there [is] lovely Ophelia? Beauty, please remember |
| an ner nu'serim narise ti gar suvar. |
all my wrong acts with your understanding. |
