Why are your clothes of yours with me?
Separate them.
When you come of age, you live not
In my room.
Talk you not with a young girl
And even if you,
Lowering down the eyes.
Smile you not,
Love you not the flower
As it is for the gods,
Not for you.
Take you not eggs.
If sit I on a cot, you must stand up
And sit on the floor
As for your respect to elders.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem