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你想说他什么尽管说吧，但是我知道我孩子的短处。
我爱他并不因为他好，只是因为他是我的小小的孩子。
你如果把他的好处与坏处两两相权一下，恐怕你就会知道他是如何的可爱吧？
当我必须责罚他的时候，他更成为我的生命的一部分了。
当我使他眼泪流出时，我的心也和他同哭了。
只有我才有权去骂他，去责备他，因为只有热爱人的人才可以惩戒人。
Child, how happy you are sitting in the dust, playing with a broken twig all the morning.
I smile at your play with that little bit of a broken twig.
I am busy with my accounts, adding up figures by the hour.
Perhaps you glance at me and think, “What a stupid game to spoil your morning with!”
Child, I have forgotten the art of being absorbed in sticks and mud-pies.
I seek out costly playthings, and gather lumps of gold and silver.
With whatever you find you create your glad games, I spend both my time and my strength over things I never can obtain.
In my frail canoe I struggle to cross the sea of desire, and forget that I too am playing a game.