They find themselves in misery,
Who stifle every action with sorrow;
But those who continue with hearts heavy,
Fore'er see a joyous tomorrow.
What befalls this world today,
Is only a forgotten memory tomorrow;
What mistakes we commit in this way,
Are but excuses to borrow.
All freedoms begin with dismay,
The dismay of a disciple;
All duties begin with joy,
That glorious joy, of God's Bible.
To do is to create without,
Without a word that exalts;
To do is to let sprout,
A seed that never halts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem