1
Praise of living virtuous men 
Is like praising God himself,
And good news received with love 
Is like the Ghost in Mary's womb. 
2
Accept then, Sir, a distant tribute, 
You, who are like a shield of God; 
May an orphan's tears, a cripple's tears 
Shine as baptism on your head. 
3
The one God reigns from age to age, 
None knows the measure of His favours; 
He bids the nails drop from his wounds, 
He orders stars to shine as spurs; 
4
His foot is in the rainbow's stirrup, 
He rides to Judgement day;
Who gave Him earth and sky ? 
Who gave Him light and shade? 
5 And if in tears of tortured men, 
If in innocent maidens' blood,
If in the waking child, 
There is only the one God, 
6
Then let your tent be broader 
Than David's cedar groves; 
For of the Magi you were first
To mount your horse upon the hour !                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    