I was not born with a fortune wholesome;
Born nor was I, as the only son-child;
Who cares if you are learned and handsome?
This world cares for only wealth that is piled!
Eighth son I’ as born of a teacher father;
Honest, he was but never worldly-wise!
So lucky was I, having a good mother;
The best education, they gave as prize.
I loved to work hard and do my duty;
Rest was assured; God only was my Friend;
I could not become rich- what a beauty!
This was the way, my life I yearned to end.
God gave me a great reward- that’s His Lute!
I was to play it like a Bard so cute.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem