It is pure joy to see one's children win,
More laurels than we did in our life-time;
It is so sad to see the world of sin,
The modern age, blind to the word sublime.
It is great joy to see our students do,
A feat far better than we did in our days;
It is so sad to see one lazy, too,
And waste his life on earth in umptine ways.
It is a joy that words cannot describe,
When youngsters outdo old-timers some way;
It is so sad to see a newer tribe,
Illiterate, half-naked, standing gay.
The youth must do much better than the old,
And keep their soul, mind, body fit and bold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem