I had the true friend's loving and all intentions right
And hoped to fashion a legendary scholar out of you,
A true mirror to reflect your nerdy chum's honest sight;
A valid wit who might have paid sense her delayed due.
Well into such lofty pupillages you ventured at a goodly pace
That made us both glad throughout each of our nostalgic days,
Until that futilely veneered vice in your heart found a home
And you loved Paul the old usurper, and away began to roam.
And away and farther away from mine roamed your kilning heart
Till you lost all the rubbed-off graces of your uncle's choicest art,
Such that now any kindly passerby should stare at your verse and say:
"Why did this protégé's ink run so dull -what became of its gayest day? "
Hence for a fitting reply any knowing soul should reliably answer:
"He forsook his high-minded tutor ‘s affectations and forever fled…
That's why his base craft now tepid tastes from low to lower stanza;
That's why he now must over-task his brute brow for morsels of bread! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem