Oh, praise me not in a limitless way;
O’er-praise puts mind in enshackled a sway,
Distorting its performance thereafter;
An o’er-enthused mind can’t function better.
The hard-earned, older virtues won o’er years,
In moments of flimsy praises by dears,
Feels weaken’d from its adverse/ill-effects;
Praises any human mind sure infects!
Praise me deservingly and nothing more;
Never praises in excessive measures pour;
It could inebriate my feeble mind,
Unless measured and properly refined.
’Tis better not to be praised if worthy,
Than be o’er-praised, ecstatic and guilty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem