To see the shore through blinding fog,
The summer fruit through wintry bog,
Is a noble art, a needful skill
For any who would steer his will
Through the perils that skirt his keel
How can a man see through a cloud?
Or fix his eye on what is not yet, now?
A Spirit that has more than eyes
And sees what for each man lies
Can guide the choice of every soul
If you will nest, within His fold…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem