One Good Man walks amongst the meadow's, strong and still,
With eyes that hold the twilight's gentle grace,
A heart that beats with quiet, steadfast will,
In every word, a kindness finds its place.
He stands as oak, when tempests shake the land,
The world may falter, but he will remain—
One good man, untouched by fleeting fame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem