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我愿我能在我孩子自己的世界的中心，占一角清净地。
我知道有星星同他说话，天空也在他面前垂下，用它呆呆的云朵和彩虹来娱悦他。
那些大家以为他是哑的人，那些看去像是永不会走动的人，都带了他们的故事，捧了满装着五颜六色的玩具的盘子，匍匐地来到他的窗前。
我愿我能在横过孩子心中的道路上游行，解脱了一切的束缚；
在那儿，使者奉了无所谓的使命奔走于无史的诸王的王国间；
在那儿，理智以她的法律造为纸鸢而飞放，真理也使事实从桎梏中自由了。
Why are those tears in your eyes, my child?
How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing!
You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing —— is that why they call you dirty?
O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because it has smudged its face with ink?
For every little trifle they blame you, my child. They are ready to find fault for nothing.
You tore your clothes while playing —— is that why they call you untidy?
O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles through its ragged clouds?
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
They make a long list of your misdeeds.
Everybody knows how you love sweet things —— is that why they call you greedy?
O, fie! What then would they call us who love you?