A Tutor Leaves the School
Thirty sunsets gone hither down
Since a notice to thee given.
Fair doth it seem as hint ere
To superiors as condition prior
The bond with me none holds thou
And free as a bird I fly now
Grace to all, my words not suffice
For favours got in measures thrice
Thus, I depart, a low, poor tutor
To yonder places, of prospects fairer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hats off to the freedom u feel............................poor tutor in terms of coins yet a richer man by experience and wisdom..............it shows in the Shakespearean words....