As one, scorns his part kicked up
Herded track's, for foul clods
I say, I'm not the gross world's;
But, rather, am I God's!
That one, of learned behaviours
Fear-driven, tugged and tamed.
With stamp of individual worth
A hoof's only; mud-framed.
Yes, the man! Stands to restore
Its worth, by standing out
An upward facing bloom, to
Higher ideals devout.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem