My rival deals a hundred blows
But not a one has landed,
While I, one single on the nose
And that was open-handed:
I did not wish to have this fight
But found it an annoyance,
For mine is not the appetite
For proving but clairvoyance.
We each of us goes down in time,
This not the only fray,
Because the world is wide—now I’m
Pleased if he go away.
But no! He comes to pester me
And goad me to a brawl,
So that his entourage can see
Their icon standing tall.
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