Pleasures in our reactions.
Hand-hid, who showers us
By whose gilded fount of grace
In life's rainbow-blessings.
That which grows, growls, sweet confounds
World-faced for confessed things.
Prides in our rescuings.
Heart-hid, empowers us
From whose thorn- crowned Mercy Seat
With love's reflex-nature.
What for treed paws, grip-slipped, does
At arm's bled reach secure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem