I do fishing standing by the stream
Where sparkling water flowed;
There I see a tree badly scarred-
I gaze at it whenever I face the light beam.

I’m sure she had faced many storms
In the course of many changes of her forms;
She withstood many a windy blast
Tenaciously held from the very past.

For each new storm her roots did grow
Though winds did heave her to and fro;
She grew her branches to the sky
Though many storms made her fly.

Like her, when winds of tribulation blow,
Our faith should take root and grow;
In faith, we should gain strong hold
And pave a way for the faith to grow fourfold.