A loafer as a grandfather saying to that he had very, very intelligent
When as a boy,
But the secret only the Almighty knows it and his olden friends,
How bogus had he been! A third-classer and a last-bencher too.
And the same man now says it that he had been first class first.
How can it be, sir?
The granddaughter and the grandson enquiring about
And he lying about.
How to say the past things of life?
And suppose it, his friends come to the moment he is bluffing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem