You scream as I snatch away the knife from you; do you consider me unkind though I am kind to you?

O Newcomer of this sorrowful land, you will scream. Beware! The pen's point is sharp, the prick may hurt you.

Ah! Why fond of the troublesome things are you? This piece of paper is harmless, play with it.

Where is your ball? Where is your China cat? Where is that small animal with broken head?

Your mirror had been free of want's dust cloud; with eye's opening has been flashed the want's spark.

In your hand's movement, in your looks is hidden; your want also is newly born just like you.

Your life is free of the discretion's restrictions, but the secret of Nature is displayed in your eyes.

When being annoyed at something with me you scream: What is the matter a mere scrap of paper you accept.

Ah! In this habit I am also concordant with you; you love fidgetiness and I also love fidgetiness.

I am the lover of ephemeral pleasures, I cry. I soon become angry, I soon calm down.

My eyes are attracted by apparent beauty. My ignorance is no less than your ignorance.

I am also now crying now laughing like you; outwardly I am elderly, I am also simply a baby.