When I'm gone from this earth, I'm hoping they'll never be able to say I had bigger barns built
Due to the fact that I was of help to others with all the extra I was given, without guilt
Or excesses from the rich bounty that was allowed to me, which was shared
With anyone I might touch, any small influence I might be, my motivations bared
For any and all to see that the gifts I had needed to be of help to other servants
And not be self-seeking, going beyond conceivable needs to inappropriate wants
But providing a way for the poorer among those whose paths I had to cross
Refining the valuable metal in life and character from the useless dross
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem