Let not the sweet voice of charity fall
near your open ears like pearls before swine,
trampled and crushed under hooves in the mire,
buried so the lustre and sheen shall not be seen,
Like Life's good seed thrown upon barren ground,
not to take deep root, unwatered, to die,
never to sprout little green buds and flowers,
as sterile burned husks eunuched by the sun,
for there you languish, your better part dying,
your soul absent wholeness, swine thriving,
seed to grace your better nature, dormant,
and the life you pass on not more than that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh wow - it is ONE phrase, so long - 12 lines! and it is divine about pearls!