To see the master grin is far too grim,
I see when he talks to the servant;
To see him regard the cushion is absurd,
For anyone retaliates and observes;
The reality of a day has arisen from splendor,
And its ranks are huge and multifarious.
I see the masters in their suit of armor,
Never is the word of a false knowledge spoken;
Towards the end of time the clothes are worn,
Then the shoes come secretly to blend;
This is next on the list of rules and instruction,
When our masters refrain from their food and drink.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem