Original (English)

TO MY SONS.                When I began the incidents of yore,                Still in my soul's depths treasured, to record,                A voice within said: Soon, life's journey o'er,                Thy portrait sole remembrance will afford.                And, ere the last hour also strikes for thee,                Search thou the harvest of the vanished years.                Not futile was thy toil, if thou canst see                That for thy sons fruit from on