Be you a letter, Oh Kite! For her from me
For you are able to visit the world,
Lies unseen far away, where does live she.

Tell her what stories me she had once told.
Tell her how shy was I in those green days.
Tell her how at present I have been sold.

In this world of money -- so everyone says --
No place to live in; no way to tread on,
Where power and penny matter always.

She lives in the heaven and like the sun
Dazzles with her radiance so brightly.
So tell her over me her grace to rain.

Her blessings if I can receive slightly,
I trust I can manage my way rightly.