Grace has a pillar of obvious concentration,
Of stone it is built, of a soul and mind it stored.
Grace may live among houses
Where the pier of gratitude is,
Everywhere goes the sea of thankful grace.
Grace has a stationary title of sun and star,
Of goggles the eyes of grace do speak,
Hated is a craving for height, of weight, of general size.
Grace may be open like a shop,
Or the pier of handsome repose is taken by waves
To be eroded and expelled from the land and sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem