Other men can't save you
With their glory, or their dreams;
Other lives they'd trade you,
Not unraveled at the seams.
The human looks in others
What he cannot find in self;
He'll search through many brothers
For a spirits subtle wealth.
Other days might soothe you,
When the end of work seems come-
But to stop would not behoove you
Before the battle's done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem