I KNOW not, in this dark and fateful hour,
What England is to others, but to me
She is a noble heritage, a sea
Of mighty memories, a gracious power,
A tender, loving mother, a strong tower
Of refuge for the oppressed that would be free.
The bulwark of that ancient liberty
She gives to all her sons, a sacred dower.
Such are the thoughts of England that must stir
An English heart, and this dear land again
Her children of to-day shall live to save,
Or if they fall, they will not fall in vain ;
No life is comelier than the life she gave.
No death more splendid than to die for her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem