Foretell himself by words and pictures dreamt,
To call the understanding isn’t fair;
We damage them who frighten that affair
With wounds so dreaded as those with contempt.
To see is ten of toes, ten fingers tempt
Our fall, with much decision of armchair,
The rest is simple as a being air,
The whole design stands close to an attempt.
My thoughts are with my mind and eyes to see
Why wounds are dressed with proper cloth and robes,
Why damning hated faith, religious awe.
My actions have the real utility,
The real decisions warned our decent globes,
Use statements expertly so little to draw.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem