Classic Poem

Alas, my friend, I was afflicted, I cried aloud on thy account to God. How much compassion hast thou for thy servant in this world sent here by thee to be thy subject for the space of a day on this earth!
However that may be, mayst thou so dispose my heart, that it may pass through this place of reckoning, without anger, without injury, and live a good life on earth.
My heart knows how truly I weep for my friend, how truly as it lives on earth it cries aloud for thee, my friend, to God.
Let thy soul awake and turn toward the south, toward the rising of the sun, rouse thy heart that it turn toward the field of battle, there let it win power and fame, the noble flowers which it will not grasp in vain; adorned with a frontlet of quetzal feathers I went forth armed with sword and shield to the battlefield on earth, that I might merit these noble flowers with which we may rejoice as we wish our friends, as the Cause of All may reward and grant to us.
Vainly, O friends, do we desire and seek where we may cull those noble flowers unless we fight with bared breasts, with the sweat of the brow, meriting these noble flowers, in bitter and painful war, for which the Cause of All will give reward.