To my children

In the night wind which toward dawn does grow more chilling and thus gives the heart a stress I left the house were I was born and brought to start my way into the uncertain world; faint wings I moved with faint untrained limbs but merry a soul I carried and a faith in wit, in time in studies’ effort spent, in bravery of which I was endowed: so steps were light and bright my eyes were too, for I brought also in me the faith in God. Look me, my child, by now that I have spent almost all life in a deep struggle for getting by force what I thought come with love, creeping along where I had dreamt to walk, suffering wrongs and scorns, pulling the reins, for bravery and gallantry were nought, nor competence or skill or working mind but deference and vain flattering words and blind acquiescence were the winning tools. Will I suggest to own those evil things? My child, when I look deeply into my glass may it be full of water or of wine I see reflected in it’s shiny end a Man’s face worn with labour, not with lies. And even if I didn’t reach the top I’m proud to say that all the path I won was done alone, in spite of evil storms against steep cliffs and with a smiling look.