My prime of youth is but a frost of

My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
5 The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.

Résultats (Latin) 1:

Pruina florens aetate mea cura est,
sed gaudium sollemnitatem medicatum auidissimo ciborum dolor
est meus campum seges farris zizania,
et omnia bona mea, sed spe lucri
V dies nudius tertius et non vidi solem
nunc vivunt, iam facta est anima mea.