In whispers soft, envy stirs its spite,
Unveiling virtues, a silent fight.
For some, it's joy to see others fall,
To wield their envy, a darkened call.
Yet God, in patience, watches all,
The envy's sting, the pride's tall wall.
Swift answers come, not to the envious heart,
But to the humble, who from envy depart.
For quality shines in deeds unseen,
In kindness sown, in hopes serene.
God's gaze rests not on envy's glare,
But on hearts pure, who compassion bear.
So let not spite your virtues cloud,
In envy's grasp, let not be bowed.
For God's response, in time, will show,
To those who love, and envy forego.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem