My presious, you are daddies little girl.
Do not try to save your, my own hollow, soul.
Do this not for him, but for your country,
but do this, you must always do this.
Honor your body, above all else is him,
and then, thinking of yourself.
And your body will it grow, made full with
all of that, which is joy, the joy, he made.
Life is like him much to long to let it go to waste.
It is never as some say too short and say.
Lastly all their money, is very cheaply made.
Now my little girl, you have to venture out
into the world and make your daddy, some.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem