Let every man His God adore:
There is nothing else or nothing more
Make images of plastic and wood;
Let them stand or let them burn.
Let them represent or oppress,
As case may be or as learned.
For we roll in our errant selves;
In primary hiding on our shelves
Make dreams of false and sublime;
In flickering frames of obscurity.
Ardour gained is craving appetite;
To exist in surfaces but barely.
As night blends to day, again;
And winter means a loss of friend.
Man does not support other men;
Unless he is supported by Christ.
Turning and tossing do not sustain,
Nor strong enough to suffice.
Let every man His God adore:
There is nothing else or nothing more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem