In her youth she was white and bright,
People were anxious to behold her sight,
Never did she care about young men sighs
But high and high she soared in her pride,
Then from Fine Land came a knight,
Who became the apple of her sight,
Few days after a grand function was organized,
And in a Temple she became her bride,
So in many years she begot many kids,
Who caused her worries and made her thin,
Her rosy cheeks were transmuted in a hollow face,
Now she was not to be admired and praised,
Her black curls also grew white,
And a spectacle came upon her eyes bright
She in her amazement could not understand,
How wrinkles descended and how did apprehend,
Was it the age which was called old age?
Which makes the humans so wretched and old face?
Is it made for us to lament?
Can some conjuror make some amend?
And save us from the jaws of this Tyrant?