Never shall I leave the praise unsung
Of tongues familiar and unknown
Of foreign nations and my own
Of fair women old and young
Of hearty drinks mild and strong
Of old rhymes and free verses
Of solemn words and vulgar curses
Of all the good tries that go wrong
Of a dear friend's cheering smile
And the equally warm and sweet
Smile of the stranger on the street
That leaves you smiling for a while
Of the fiddle I never learnt to play
And the guitar I did master
Of sad ballads and other faster
Songs that make my soul as bright as day
Of Larralde's naked truth
Stevenson's natural creed,
Pound's creative greed
And Shakespeare's endless youth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem