There are countless men who praise thee,
Even if their praise is a soundless one.
There are countless men who’ve never met thee,
And yet thou art their hero.

When the people read thy stories,
The words go all over the land
And sink into countless hearts;
Hearts in which thine image hath stood long.

To those in the midst of philosophical thinking
And to those in the midst of heavy obligation
So many are devoted to thee
And seek to think more of thee!