For every lesson I’ve had to take
A thorough preparation I would make;
Yet I leave the class with burning heart
Thinking that I didn’t make a start.

For every lesson I’ve had to climb
With all the sweat and grime;
I teach with all strength and pain
But all my hopes lie in vain.

I get all the headaches and the tears
As I spend gloomy days and fruitless years;
I pray Heaven to teach me know
How can I help my pupils grow?

I do the most things to keep the class alive
In order to stimulate them, I strive;
Many are the obstacles I get
To God I pray, help me not to fret.