Is there for honest poverty
That hangs his head, an' a' that?
The coward slave, we pass him by
We dare be poor for a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
Our toil's obscure, and a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,-
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem