At twenty-five I forsake boyhood
And join the cadre of married men.
The odds are many that against me rise
But I vow not to slip to boyhood again.
A wife is a sweet and comforting thing
Yet a puzzling and unfathomable being,
Who like the rose brings with her the beauty and the thorns
That painfully pierce to the innermost flesh and bone!
My beautiful wife is called Esther,
The fair maid of devotion true;
A gorgeous girl of conscience right
The may extract envy from you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem