1. You sent me books for the child as a gift
So the days of my youth returned though I am old

2. Pages for the little child you placed
For him to gain the strength of a man, that child

3. Oh how I wish I were the child you await
To recite what is recited and read what is read

4. Oh how I wish my carefree days would return
Where what comes and goes is the same, bitter or sweet

5. No good is in my past, today or tomorrow
I am nothing to life nor is it meant for me

6. Though the virtue of fathers is in children around them
My virtue over fathers is that I have no children

7. And of fates I have the worst lot
So my life has no meaning, before or after