Zealous burning passion
Immeasurable and unquatified
Who can stay so strong, so long without food
Yet gets filled and never frail for a whole day?
Even in his lack, he has a coin or a bread or a cup
To spare for his wards...
He wears his only cloth, he sees his infant ward running nose
He cleans his nose with his shirt for he lacked a handkerchief
He tries to take a walk, he sees an infant ward crying, in wait for his parents
He knows without being told that she is starving
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem