The second line:
Meeting one's master in the lane.
No fault.
The third line:
Seeing the wagon dragged back, his oxen
taken, his men's hair and noses cut off.
Not a beginning, but an ending.
The fifth line:
Remorse vanishes.
One's kinsmen bite the skin.
Going forward: what error?
The sixth line:
Strange sights: a pig shouldering mud,
a cartload of ghosts. One first draws a bow,
then lowers it. No raider- a groom. Go.
Meet the rain, and with it, fortune.