Y our princes are like the grasshoppers and your marshals like the swarms of locusts which encamp in the hedges on a cold day—but when the sun rises, they fly away, and no one knows where they are.
Your guardsmen are like the swarming locust. Your marshals are like hordes of grasshoppers Settling in the stone walls on a cold day. The sun rises and they flee, And the place where they are is not known.
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