My brother kneels, so saith Kabir,
To stone and brass in heathen wise,
But in my brother's voice I hear
My own unanswered agonies.
His God is as his fates assign,
His prayer is all the world's--and mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This a delightful little poem. Kipling was an imperialist but he could show a genuine empathy with common humanity as in this gem of a poem. The verse still has a relevance for today's world.