By his paths through the parched desolation,
Hot rides and the terrible tramps;
By the hunger, the thirst, the privation
Of his work in the further most camps.
By his worth in the light that shall search men
And prove – ay! And justify each –
I place him in front of all churchmen
Who feel not, who know not – but preach!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem