Hanging from the rough-hewn cross of hatred,
Piercing torture stretching every nerve,
Christ, the spotless Lamb of God most sacred
Died the dreadful death which I deserved.
Stretch, Oh Lord, my soul with that same tension -
Rend apart my pride and self from me.
Tune my voice to sing the full dimension
Measured by Thy dying agony.
Hands that held the helpless hands of creatures
Needing hope for hopeless flesh and souls,
Hands of Master, King, Messiah, Teacher -
Shattered by inhuman, savage blows.
Grasp, Oh Lord, my hands with both Thine, bleeding,
Bind me to Thy cross and make me free.
Hold me, for Thy wounds become my healing,
Lost in all, I find my all in Thee.
Crushed beneath the weight of my transgression
Open wide His loving heart outbroke,
Streaming blood, each drop the full expression
Of the boundless love God's grace awoke.
Break, Oh Lord, my heart with that same pressure,
Make my heart the channel of Thy grace:
Breaking every moment for Thy pleasure,
Broken so each pulse would sound Thy praise.
Daniel Valcárcel Lillie - 2001
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4 comments:
És un poema preciós. Qui l'ha escrit?
Un tal D. M. Valcárcel...
Wow. Sense paraules.
És veu clar que és un poema real, ple d'experiència, de sentit ... un batec del cor. No una mera composició.
Per cert, penso que seria bo protegir les creacions literàries donant el nom i la data. ...
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