If your son turns into a bad boy,
What to be done with,
Which but the judge cannot feel it
The pains of some other father
Rather than his own
And he is a judge for others,
Not for himself?
My son has, not of the judge's
And my pain, not his,
But the pain of creation,
The mistakes and blunders
I committed, made and done,
I am now bearing the fruits of that.
The differences were of views and opinions,
If one takes to not your words
Of good sense and advice,
Instructs not to take to your counsel,
suppose that your wife is against
Then what will you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem