Wide and far his tours had been,
Where men picked what they could not carry
Disasters he had forsaid, wars and mean
In his holy record, heaven's map be;
That the street is narrow, bends no points
Now the prophet is gone, the weight of sin is sold
But his words has stayed and took eternal joints
And the life he lived, very little is told.

The clash of belief, he had fought:
Those who failed to accept his god
Never let the case rest at court,
How he knelt to wail like a stud
O Lord! drag these heavenly sheep to me
Though the devil's strength, world's pursuit
For reasons that were not supposed to be
Made them to their plans more resolute.

Blessed lies the head of this cleric;
Faith in God's religion which so,
Defended he till his health got sick
Here heaped some stones to lay him low.
For the death he embraced with loathing
And since he lived life opulent but raw,
Trode the pagan's land who wears no clothing
History is his picture I can draw.