1. People, you are not what words can fully praise,
And time in your presence seems naught but a slave.

2. The world through you is revived from its thirst
For noble deeds and kindly acts that save.

3. The days grow fair seeing your cheerful face,
And from you youth borrows charm against the grave.

4. Our feasts are joyous with your light, that drives
Away the darkness that would pain and crave.

5. To praise another would but weary ears,
Leading to deafness like a misplaced stave.

6. O son of valiant sires, our hope when fate
Would threaten, pouring blessings without stave,

7. Your generous acts still yield unfailing fruit,
Curing the sickness that infects the brave.