We learn to harry others
Refusing then to grow
Preclude the boasts of those
We think can do no good
We ignore Him that taught
To heal our logged eyes
We go on playing prophet
Outweeping those bereaved
We prefer ugly people
They cause us hearty joy
The quick and brainy lad
We treat with bloated scorn
We do not want to see him
His greatness will offend
We want to swell but fail
Oppressing those that try.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem