|By men whose eyes see far and wide new cities shall be founded:|
Not by old Kufa or Baghdad is my thought’s vision bounded.
|Rash youth, new-fangled learning, giddy pleasure, gaudy plume,—|
With these, while these still swarm, the Frankish wine-shop is surrounded.
|Not with philosopher, nor with priest, my business; one lays waste|
The heart, and one sows discord to keep mind and soul confounded;
|And for the Pharisee—far from this poor worm be disrespect!|
But how to enfranchise Man, is all the problem I have sounded.
|The fleshpots of the wealthy are for sale about the world;|
Who bears love’s toils and pangs earns wealth that God’s hand has compounded.
|I have laid bare such mysteries as the hermit learns, that thought,|
In cloister or in college, in true freedom may be grounded.
|No fastings of Mahatmas will destroy the Brahmins’ sway;|
Vainly, when Moses holds no rod, have all his words resounded!
Translated by: V.G. Kiernan