Self-crafted veneer's gloss can't outshine
The luster of genuine wit and reason fine,
And a pretended grin will not brighter seem
Than a true smile with her steadfast gleam.
The laborious ink of a keen thinker's trail
Shames millions of easy-sailing upstarts,
While greased roads even with their ease
Do not outvie avid knack's dexterous arts.
Should toughened steel to obvious wood
Her rigid place and her fair honors cede?
May rarefied gold to ores of usual brood
Her finest shine and lion's favors give?
So songs of a most mellifluous tingle
Will sound better than ordinary jingle,
And thoughts of any true-knowing head
Do beat all aping wiles so widely spread.
An ax's glitter won't sever the thinnest trunk,
For proud ale's fake foam makes no sots drunk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem