A ring of gold, one band and colours three,
symmetry encompassing love and life.
My mother, a widow, also his wife;
I was but seventeen, his son, he leaves.

A great gift he gave, his respect bequeathed;
to know him more deeply would have been nice.
A ring of gold, one band and colours three,
affectionately, never out of sight.

A father to his children, I now teethe
as beyond my soul's painful wounds I fight;
at night my tears for him are always right.
I adoring will to his figure cleave,
a ring of gold, one band and colours three.