The memory of my contemporaries all faded away,
My relationship had been from generation to generation, they knew not my genesis,
There's no one of my days to discuss the sport of my days and the glory of our local association,
Oh! The loneliness of long life, and them that are no more,
Many we traded together all passed away but I live on.
The crinkle skin of my mortal like the skin of a crocodile,
The wool on my head, like the wisdom of Solomon,
Wisdom has been my companion in the desert of acquaintance,
Oh! Life and life, in the ocean of life,
Sheba came and left with wisdom,
My experiences have been my prophets,
I'm a wonder to the generations who knew not my beginning,
They seek me for their future and stick around my voice to fulfil their days,
They desire to live like me, and honey with the grey of my head which is the glory of the aged,
The secret is abstinence from evil and following the laws of patience.