I HAVE asked, and you have answered:--
Be the cunning work fulfilled,
Be the soul that's tried by fire
Steel for strength and gold for beauty,
So shall be the heart you hold;
As a sword of keenest metal
Yet may have its hilt of gold.
Fan your furnace, hotter, hotter,
Till you win the weapon true;
Golden to your touch, my dearest,
Steel, to meet you foes for you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem