The sin of Judah, is written down
Written, with the diamond point of a ferrum pen
Engraved on the tablet of mortal hearts
Upon the stones and sacred grounds
That when their sons shall call to heart
Their alters, grand, and sacred poles
Behind the luxuriant trees on high
Upon the hills and mountain top:
The ills of men do not decay
Of course,
Their good is oft interred.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem